


Death of a King

by chlovrs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Awkward Kageyama Tobio, Depressed Kageyama Tobio, Dorms, Drinking & Talking, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fanboy Hinata, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hinata Shouyou In Denial, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Hinata Shouyou is shy, Injured Kageyama Tobio, M/M, Middle School Hinata Shouyou flashbacks, Nobody is Dead, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Time Skips, University AU, pinning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26822575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlovrs/pseuds/chlovrs
Summary: Hinata Shouyou was a complete fanboy for the Volleyball player Kageyama Tobio. He watched all of his games in middle school and high school, watched him play on T.V. and he had nearly every issue of sports magazine the man had featured in.He was practically a Kageyama encyclopedia.So you can imagine Hinata's horror when Kageyama mysteriously disappears from the world of Volleyball and is suddenly outside his apartment and moving into his spare room.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 210
Kudos: 398





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ayo :)  
> This is my first Haikyuu story and I'm excited for you guys to read it.  
> Fair warning though, updates will be slow since I'm in my 3rd year at Uni and have a lot of work to do.  
> Plus I really want to take my time with this one!  
> The tags will probably change as the story progresses :)

As it often happened in tragic romance novels or horror films, it was a wild storm that lead little Hinata to take shelter in his middle schools’ gymnasium.

He’d stepped out of his last class of the day and fell right in the middle of a surprise typhoon. Violent winds were shaking the roof of the bike shed, threatening to rip the tin protection clean off and the sheer force of the gale hitting his ears hurt like nothing else, It was deafening, and on top of that the lashing rain made it nearly impossible to see what was in front of him.

Hinata, being the thirteen-year-old idiot that he was, ignored the consistent warnings over the tannoy instructing students to stay out of the storm. Instead, he sprinted into the thick of it and with cold shaky hands, somehow, managed to unlock his bike from the bike shed and then lug it into the school’s gymnasium. Why did he do this? well, he rode his blue basket bike to school every day, he needed it and he knew that his mum couldn’t afford to buy him a new one. But he only rationalized his quite frankly irrational behavior afterward. In truth, his feet had moved before he’d realized it, the second he’d unlocked his bike he moved on autopilot. Why his inner autopilot led him into the gym he didn’t know, he’d only been inside it a handful of times for PE, the building had no significance to him.

Yet there he was standing inside the entryway like a drowned rat. He huffed at his own idiocy as he leaned his wet bike against a wall. He’d find a bathroom, sit under the hand dryer for a couple of minutes to warm up, and then find somewhere quiet to hide until either the typhoon was over, or his mum caved picked him up. 

As far as plans went, it was one of Hinata’s better ones.

He wandered around the long dark corridors of the gym, his wet socks squelching in his shoes with every step he took, water dripping from his damp, bright orange hair onto the floor. The middle school gym was like a labyrinth to little 159.2 cm Hinata. He’d only ever been in one room, which was the weights gym, for his PE classes and there were so many rooms on the ground floor. There was a rock-climbing wall, a basketball and tennis court but all of those were locked up since it wasn’t their club day. 

Hinata felt the familiar anxiety crawling into his skin the longer he remained lost, the type you feel when you turn all the lights off in the house, the type that forces you to run away from imaginary demons lurking in the shadows. Luckily, as he turned his next corner the toilets came into view. He sighed in relief, rushing toward the little blue boy on the door before the sound of yelling stopped him in his tracks. When his eyes glanced toward the sound, all anxiety seemed to fade away. At the end of the corridor two large double doors were wide open—bright yellow light poured out into the dark hallway like a light at the end of a tunnel.

Hinata being as curious as ever walked straight past the bathroom and toward the light, the closer he got he heard the clear sounds of trainers squeaking and balls bouncing, of people, laughing. Whatever sport it was sounded like fun, but he couldn’t remember whose club day it was. So of course, the only choice was to sneak a little look.

Soggy little Hinata reached the double doors and peered inside. It was a volleyball court, mid-match. He stood outside the doors and peered in, watching the players do whatever it was they were doing with wide eyes. Players were jumping and running and diving around. Sometimes they’d even give each other high tens and cheer each other on, it looked energetic…it looked fun. 

The human tangerine was having a nice time, just stood watching blissfully unaware of who was winning or who was losing, until a deep voice jolted him, “Would you like a towel?” Hinata spun around and looked up to see what he presumed was a coach of some kind. The man was older, had a dirty tracksuit on and a whistle hanging around his neck. He looked like the typical absent-minded PE teacher; all be it a little on the older side. The man in question pulled out a clean, white towel from the duffel bag that was clung around him, “Here, it’s fresh out of the drier so it’ll warm you up fast.” 

He pushed the towel toward Hinata and the orange-haired boy took it with a grateful bow, “Thank you sir” Hinata fretted, unfolding the soft warm material and scuffing his hair with it quickly.

The towel was damp again in an instant, but the caring teacher didn’t mind, he could always wash it again, “Are you here to watch the game?” 

“Uhm” Hinata began shyly, holding onto the soggy towel around his shoulders for comfort.

Socially, he was a timid boy; he was insecure about his height and his outlandish hair colour which other kids picked on him for, it didn’t help that Hinata was also not the smartest, the boy had little to no common sense but was still incessantly curious which had landed him in hot water with teachers a few times. He was scrawny too which didn’t help, it meant he failed at every sport he’d played which only resulted in more teasing. Thirteen-year-old Hinata kept to himself, never wanting to rock the boat encase it resulted in unwanted attention from those in class that didn’t like him.

When Hinata didn’t fully reply, the older man patted him on the shoulder, a friendly and welcoming gesture, “Come on in then, I’m sure there’s room on the benches for one more.” Hinata didn’t question it, absorbed by his own curiosity, he followed closely behind the teacher nearly clipping the elder's heels once or twice, until the man suddenly sat down on a wooden bench close to the white red, and yellow lines of the court, “This is your first game I presume?” The teacher could tell it was from the way his eyes darted around, trying to watch every player at once in no order whatsoever. 

Hinata nodded, “Yes” eyes following the ball like a cat to a laser pointer. 

“Sitting courtside for your first game is a good omen if I ever knew one, “he laughed “What’s your name?”

“Oh! Right” he exclaimed in surprise, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t introduced himself yet, “I’m Hinata Shouyou, I’m a second year in Mr. Takeda’s homeroom class.” He told the PE teacher, bowing as he did so with an almost embarrassed glint to his eye.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you Hinata. I hope I’ll see you around the volleyball court often from now on.” He paused, reaching underneath the bench they were sat on and pulling out a bottle of water, “I’m Mr. Ukai, I help to coach the middle school’s team.” 

Hinata smiled brightly but didn’t verbally respond to Mr. Ukai. Instead, he was entranced by the game before him even though he had no clue what was going on. The ball was going so fast and so high, everyone was so tall or at least showed signs of growing up to be. The game didn’t seem so equal though, some were running around and diving headfirst after the ball while others just stood by the net and passed the ball around. Even still, watching them play made Hinata feel giddy. It was like he’d been living on a low battery and somebody had finally plugged him in. 

He found himself wanting to know more about Volleyball. So, after a couple of minutes trying stubbornly to figure out what was happening on the court by himself and, understandable, getting nowhere he asked the teacher beside him, “How do you play?”

The teacher smiled at this, he was more than happy that he had the opportunity to nurse another volleyball player into the world, the sport wasn’t too popular anymore so he was in no position to let this opportunity slip away, “Well, it depends on what position you play; but simply put the first team to reach 25 points wins.” 

“What about the positions?” Hinata asked eagerly.

The man once again let out a hearty laugh, “Look at the court” He instructed, happy when the boy enthusiastically obliged, “You see that player over there” He pointed, Hinata followed his finger which landed on the boy who’d kept diving for balls, “He's a libero, his job is to keep the ball in the air. So, when the other team hits the ball over, he receives it and stops them from scoring.” 

Hinata hummed, “What about that one?” He asked, pointing to one of the guys that kept jumping.

“Ah” he paused, “He’s an outsider hitter, but you can say wing spiker for short, his job is to attack the ball. It’s a difficult job, you have to be able to jump high, be quick on your feet, and be ready to adapt to different situations when you’re a wing spiker.” He explained, trying to keep things incredibly simple but also interesting for the boy sat beside him.  


“I like that one most” Hinata claimed with a curt nod, earning a smile from the teacher “I don’t like that one much.” He said, pointing toward the boy who was stood by the net. 

“Oh, that’s the setter,” He said, “Most people want to be setters”

“Why? he isn’t moving” Hinata observed with a small confused frown. Surely the fun of volleyball would be the running around and jumping. 

“Setters have the most contact with the ball, they decide which spiker gets the ball and when.” He informed him, eyes zeroing in on the setter who was currently playing, “The setter pretty much has the ability to control the whole game.” 

“Oh” Although Hinata didn’t necessarily understand the sport, he could appreciate it. The more he watched, the more he caught himself watching the dark-haired setter instead of the spiker. 

It was nerve-wracking to watch the boy throw the ball behind him without turning around to check if someone was there to spike it. He had to trust somebody would be there to spike it, the very concept of that gave Hinata chills. There’s no way in hell he could do something like that. There was something about watching a person do something you knew you couldn’t do, no matter how much you trained, that was scary but…in a way it was also thrilling. Hinata wanted to be there, on the court, he wanted to spike every single one of those tosses. 

“Say, we have beginner classes every Friday after school, why don’t you come along?” the man suggested with a warm smiling. 

“I’m not good at playing sports” Despite Hinata internalized enthusiasm about spiking the setters throws, he instantly shut down the kind man's offer, his mind pulling up horrifically embarrassing memories from past sports he’d tried, “But I’ll gladly watch and support” He suggested.

Mr. Ukai, although a little disappointed with the tangerines decision to not play, was glad Hinata wanted to tag along and watch, “In that case, we hold mini-matches here every Tuesday—” Mr. Ukai was cut off by the sharp sound of a whistle, then the few people that were watching either assented into cheers or descended into sounds of disappointed.

“Did we win?” Hinata asked frantically, head rushing from side to side as he watched the opposing teams shake hands.

“We won,” Mr. Ukai confirmed, standing up and cheering loudly with his hands cupping the sides of his mouth, some of the players seemed embarrassed by the display, “You might be a lucky charm Hinata--” 

“Hinata Shouyou!” The ginger instantly stiffened at the familiar, authoritative tone. He scrambled off the bench quickly, helplessly watching as his homeroom teacher stormed toward him red-faced and out of breath, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere, You’re mothers here to pick you up.” Mr. Takeda was clearly stressed; he thought the boy had been kidnapped or something. 

“Sorry, Mr. Takeda!” Hinata rushed toward the small dark-haired man leaned against the open doorway, jumping over the bench and multiple stacked up bags as he did so, “Thank you for showing me Volleyball Mr. Ukai!” Hinata exclaimed, bowing low till he was practically cut in half.

Mr. Ukai laughed that same hearty one, the one that reminded Hinata of how an old dad would laugh at his children, “I apologize for worrying you Mr. Takeda, I’ll be sure to let you know if Hinata is here in future.” Mr. Takeda sighed, grateful for the consideration of the older gentleman.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday!” Hinata yelled back to the coach, who was now surrounded by the winning team. Hinata could feel an intense stare on him when his eyes cast around the group of players…it was the setter. 

He was watching Hinata getting scolded by his homeroom teacher while being dragged away from the gym. For someone who seemed so skilled on the court, the setter's face held an awkward expression somewhere between irritated and alarmed. Although the look wasn’t pleasant, it made Hinata’s heart jump in his chest.

After that day, Hinata came to watch the games every Tuesday just like he said he would. He sat high up in the stands and watched on the edge of his seat. He watched every dive, every toss, every serve, and spike intently. There was a deep passion for Volleyball growing inside of him, and every Tuesday that passion was nurtured. 

However, so was another passion. A passion for one dark-haired individual, one setter who everyone referred to as the king of the court. Kageyama Tobio was a Volleyball prodigy, a true athlete in the making, and Hinata was completely entranced by him. He went to every single one of his games in middle school, and then when time caught up with him and he moved into Highschool he’d catch the bus two towns over to watch his away games. He was a complete fanboy, a closeted one sure but a fanboy none the less. He’d watched Kageyama grow into an amazing player over the years, silently cheering him on and praying for his victories. 

For Hinata, there was nothing better than settling into the sofa to watch one of Kageyama’s matches. 

Although times had changed from that faithful day. Hinata moved out of his small town and now was enrolled in Tokyo University studying sports therapy. He was also slightly taller at 164.8 cms but a whole lot beefier especially in the thigh and ass department. He’d grown out of his shy phase thanks to a few friends he’d made in high school, and new ones he’d made in University too. He was energetic and bold, although still hanged on the dimmer side of the intellectual spectrum. But out of all the things that’d changed most about Hinata’s life since that first encounter with Volleyball, it was the presence of Kageyama Tobio. The man who’d acted as both a sports inspiration and a gay awakening. 

Kageyama Tobio, after winning the national championship tournament back in high school, walked off the court and never stepped back on. He’d vanished from the sport completely for seemingly no reason. Hinata found it silly how much the disappearance of a man he’d never even spoken to affected him, he cried for days as if he was mourning a family member. He just kept waiting for Kageyama to walk through the large double doors onto the court, praying for just one more match and to see him set one more toss, but he never did. 

There was speculation from media of course, some were claiming that he’d gotten a girl pregnant and had run away with her, others said that he was secretly homosexual and was being ostracized by the Volleyball association because of it. Some even said that he’d fallen out of love with the sport and had chosen to retire. Either way, Kageyama was gone and Hinata needed to fill the void he’d left with something or risk going crazy with boredom. 

So, twenty-one-year-old Hinata threw all his excess energy into studying for his degree, working out, and socializing with friends. He’d decided that his love for both Volleyball and the setter was simply a phase, like when people become obsessed with a band for a few years and then they get over it. That’s all it was now. 

Kageyama Tobio was just a phase.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ello i'm sorry i got no internet so im mooching of my friends sskderiftirke

Hinata was many things, a hard worker, a good friend, he had a meat bun addiction and he was a massive flirt after a couple of drinks, but one thing Hinata absolutely wasn’t was a morning person. He lived for the late nights, the movie marathons that would end in the early hours of the morning, and of course the occasional caffeine boost at 11 p.m. to get him through his night shifts at the bar. The very prospect of having to wake up before 2 p.m. made him feel sick to his stomach. When his new timetable for the second-year semester classes came in he was horrified, 9 a.m. stars all week surely wasn’t humane. 

Then again, there was one plus side to the early starts. Only one. 

Hinata was harshly ripped out of his half-awake half-asleep daze by the high-pitched sound of his alarm. The man groaned as he rolled over to check his phone, the bright light burning his eyes. 

His phone dinged continuously for a few minutes, and a small amount of consciousness seeped into his lulled brain. 

Hinata sat himself up in his warm double bed, slowly but surely working away the sleep in his eyes and the heaviness of his limbs while he checked his phone, seeing messages from the group chat. 

Bokuto: Sophies?  
Oikawa: Sophies!  
Iwaizumi: ^^^  
Hinata: I just woke up, I can be ready by 8 a.m.?  
Oikawa: Everyone meet at the entryway at 8 a.m. last one there buys for everyone!  
Bokuto: BET!  
Iwaizumi: Not again, I didn’t agree to this.  
Oikawa: Too bad the man said BET. 

Hinata sighed lazily with content at his friend’s eagerness, he swore they all shared a brain cell between them when it came to early morning breakfast runs, and Sophies was a staple. They made great breakfasts, pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hash browns, pretty much anything you could ever want they sold it. Plus, if you were in a hurry, they could box it up for you. Takeaway breakfast! It was a revelation for students, especially one like Hinata who could barely stay still for more than an hour. 

Hinata really would do anything if it meant skipping the lines to the breakfast café down the road, even if it meant waking up early. 

Sufficiently energized by the idea of free food, Hinata practically threw himself out of bed and wasted no time in diving into a warm shower, lathering himself up quickly with the fresh scent of his tropical body wash before rinsing, turning the shower off, and then drying himself as quickly as humanly possible.

Maybe he’d switch things up today and get an American style breakfast with waffles? 

He scrambled to tug on his maroon tracksuit and white trainers before grabbing his gym bag and double-checking that he had everything for the day. A spare tracksuit? Check, extra deodorant? Check, his workbooks? Check. He patted the pockets of his tracksuit down, Wallet? Check, Keys? Check, and within seconds of knowing he had everything he needed, he grabbed his bag and was racing down the five flights on stairs to the entryway. 

Or he could try out the new milkshakes they had? 

While racing down he bumped into Iwaizumi who lived two floors down “Morning!” the energetic boy beamed, zooming past the taller man without guilt to ensure he wasn’t the last. 

The scruffy haired man looked up while he fiddled with the lock on his apartment door, “Morni—Hey! Wait up you little shit!” Iwaizumi grumbled, realizing what was at stake and charging after him, but it was to no avail. Hinata was just too quick. 

The orange boy laughed his way down the final flight, joy surging through his little body when he saw nobody at the bottom. He ran all the way to the door, he even knocked on the glass for good measure. 

Iwaizumi tumbled down the last couple of steps close behind, “How do you get faster every single time.” The taller man huffed, placing a warm hand on the cold glass door and heaving over to catch his breath. 

“I’m not getting faster, you’re getting slower.” Hinata teased, relaxing into the wall facing the stairs so he could have a great view of the look of despair on the loser's face, “Oikawa must really be waring you down.”

Iwaizumi took the same course as Hinata’s and in first year he was in a few of his module classes too. When they first met for a presentation project it was a little tense, it wasn’t horrible but neither of them cared for each other. Hinata thought Iwaizumi was too serious and boring, and the latter thought the tangerine was obnoxiously energetic and annoying. Once that project was over, they became aware of each other’s existence, sometimes they’d nod to each other outside of class for the sake of politeness but that was it. Well, that was the case until Hinata’s good friend from high school, Oikawa, wanted to introduce him to his new boyfriend…Iwaizumi. It was an incredibly awkward dinner, but it wasn’t long until Hinata and Iwaizumi warmed up to each other, Iwaizumi now started to find Hinata’s energetic nature motivational, and the latter thought Iwaizumi’s blunt jokes were hilarious, now they bonded over the enjoyment of teasing Oikawa relentlessly. 

“If anyone’s being worn down in this relationship it’s me.” 

The two out of breath men screamed in shock, Hinata was completely startled by the sudden presence behind him. Oikawa stood on the other side of the glass doors; He looked like he’d been awake for hours with his perfectly styled hair, soft features, and bright white tracksuit steamed to perfection. How he found the time to support his high maintenance appearance was beyond both Hinata and Iwaizumi’s comprehension. 

“What manhole did you jump out of?” Iwaizumi asked, standing straight up and crossing his beefy arms over his broad chest in an intimidating gesture.  
Well, Hinata found it intimidating at least. 

Oikawa shamelessly eyed up his boyfriend, clearly enthralled with the display, before he answered with a smile, “Iwa-chan don’t be like that, aren’t you happy to see me?” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes with a passive-aggressive tut, his subtle scowl firmly in place. Oikawa relented, “I wanted to trick Bokuto” 

Hinata sniggered mischievously, brown eyes glimmering, partially daring the general personification of beauty to go through with his plans, “You’re evil” 

Oikawa shot the orange boy a similar look, one which reeked of trouble. 

Racing for free breakfast had become an anchor of stability for the group’s ever-changing routine in the past year. It all started when Bokuto slept through his alarms one morning, the morning of a practical exam, and in a panic, Oikawa said he’d pay for the man's lunch if he made it in time which he did. How one free lunch turned into a group race for breakfast was a foggy story, nobody remembered it the same. Iwaizumi insisted that it was because of the new 9 a.m. schedule the university started filtering in, but Oikawa claimed it was because Bokuto complained about never having cereal in his apartment. Either way, the race had been happening at least once a week since; and Bokuto had an impressive losing streak going on. Though, in fairness, the poor guy did live on the seventh floor. 

The sound of echoed, heavy labored breaths coming from the stairwell widened the devilish smile to Oikawa’s face.

“Don’t be cruel—” Iwaizumi warned, but his boyfriend had already ducked out of sight. 

Hinata watched as Bokuto’s tall, well-built body came into view, made even longer by his gravity-defying hairstyle. His face and neck glistened slightly, he’d clearly put in maximum effort to try and win; then again Bokuto always put a hundred percent effort into everything and anything that he did. When his eyes cast to the two men in front of him a terrifyingly large smiled overtook his features.

A feeling of innocent guilt racked Hinata’s nerves at the view.

“Yes!” Bokuto instantly began to celebrate, jumping down the last four steps eagerly more than ready to claim his free breakfast. 

Then Oikawa peeped out from behind the door with an almost apologetic smile…almost.

Bokuto stopped dead, sinking to his knees dramatically with a wild look of heartbreak on in his golden eyes, “No!” 

Although Hinata felt a little bad, he couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted from his chest. 

“Yes!” Oikawa shot back, laughing menacingly like an evil toddler, he looked down at his distraught friend, pride oozing out of him“ Ah nothing quite hits the spot like crushing dreams so early in the morning” 

Iwaizumi helped the broken man to his feet again, glaring daggers into his boyfriend as he did so “I will never recover from this” Bokuto practically sobbed. 

A free breakfast had once again been snatched away from his hungry hands. 

“Financially or emotionally?” Oikawa gleamed, rubbing salt in the man’s wounds. 

Bokuto blew, his usual energetic composure completely destroyed by the trick, “Both, you’re too mean and you eat too much.” 

“Think about it this way,” Oikawa suggested as they left the dorm complex, “That cute waiter will think you’re super generous.” Oikawa was the devil reincarnated sometimes, he’d play on your weakest points and kick you when you were down; but he’d also bring you up, or he’d try to at least try to. 

Bokuto’s eyes sparkled at the thought. He’d been eyeing up this one waiter ever since they started going to Sophies, it had gotten to the point where Bokuto would loudly exclaim his arrival to catch the man’s attention. Although, the waiter didn’t seem too bothered by it. He did his job, made small talk, he was very polite and incredibly patient which was a quality Bokuto definitely needed in anyone who was in his life.

Patients, a lot of patients. 

“Order whatever you want!” He declared, skipping along in front as if the last ten minutes had never happened. 

Just like that, Bokuto was back to being himself. In all his loud, funny, and gullible glory. 

“I still say that was cruel” Iwaizumi complained, walking closely next to his boyfriend.

Oikawa shook away the short-haired man’s attitude, “Oh look at him,” He defended his actions, pointing to the literal skipping man a few paces in front “he’s fine.”

Before long, the group had settled down into a booth at Sophies, ordered their usuals, other than Hinata who decided he did want to try the new milkshakes and began chatting about everything and everything. 

One prominent topic was Hinata’s exhausting lifestyle, “Are you working again tonight?” Iwaizumi asked as he buttered his toast, eyeing the smaller boy in front of him who was busy stuffing as much food down his throat as humanly possible.

Hinata nodded, “Gotta,” he shoved half a hash brown in his mouth to keep the half-chewed fried egg company, “Rent.” Was all he managed to say, in fairness, it was all he physically could say with the amount of food in his gob. 

The others understood though, “Why don’t you rent out your spare room?” Oikawa suggested with a thoughtful hum. 

“Firstly that’s illegal—” Iwaizumi began, but he was cut off by the feeling of Oikawa shoving a forkful of pancake in his mouth.

“The university never does home inspections, besides someone is registered to be living there they just never moved in, right?” Oikawa spoke with uncertainty, not knowing if he was remembering things correctly or confusing Hinata with some of his other friends. 

Hinata nodded, swallowing down his mouthful “Yeah, Nishynoya. He moved in for a little at the start of last year but then decided he wanted to go to brazil instead.”

Iwaizumi scoffed at the irresponsibility of the littler man, and Oikawa agreed, “Good thing to, that man was a maniac.” Oikawa sipped on his tea slowly, his bran working a hundred miles a minute to try and find a solution to Hinata’s problem. 

The fact is that Tokyo rent is expensive. Hinata’s University-owned apartment was made for two people, so technically two people should be halving the rent, but in Hinata’s case, he was paying all of it. His loan covered his half fine, but he had to get a job to pay for Nishinoya’s half. Hinata didn’t realize until after the man had gone that he’d failed to inform the University of his absence, so Hinata had no choice but to pay up or go through a massive stress of legal proceedings and he couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.  
Iwaizumi offered a less risky solution, “What if you apply for financial aid? I’m sure if you explained your situation they’d—”

“I vote for a new roommate” Bokuto chimed in, his eyes finally leaving the cute waiter when he walked into the backroom, “A new roommate means a new friend which means an added chance of me not coming last.” He said, throwing subtle shade toward Oikawa who didn’t seem phased at all.

Was renting out a room that was owned by your University without telling said University illegal? Yes. Yes it was.Yet, the way Oikawa and Bokuto explained it sounded so fun…and Hinata did love a bit of fun. 

He was tempted, but understandably cautious, “But what if I end up living with some high maintenance girl? Or another Nishinoya? Or—”

“Uh bold of you to assume I won’t be scrutinizing every single application you get” Oikawa huffed as he poured an excessive amount of syrup on his pancakes. Oikawa could see the anxious hesitation in Hinata eye’s “Nothing bad is going to happen Hinata, I promise.” He tried his best to soothe the tangerine, but being soothing wasn’t his strong suit, “Well be super discreet and careful, the University will never find out.” 

“Our point is, you’re working yourself too hard and we’re worried about your health.” Iwaizumi chimed in, backing up and elaborating on his boyfriend's sentiment “You’re a full-time student who works 7 p.m. to 1 a.m. and on top of that you have assignments, and volunteer on the weekends. It’s too much Hinata.” Iwaizumi argued passionately, “Although I don’t like the idea of going behind the Universities back, if you did rent out your spare room you could quit your job and have more time for yourself.” 

Bokuto and Oikawa nodded frantically in agreement, leaving Hinata swimming his own thoughts. Hinata liked to work, it was something to keep him busy so he really didn’t mind it; but at the same time…his friends were right. He had no time to himself, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d actually hung out outside of Sophies and between classes, he was constantly worried about money and his grades had been slipping since he picked up the job.

He thought how nice it would feel to come home from a day of classes and just…lay down for a couple of minutes. No doubt his body yearned for a break; he couldn’t remember the last time he woke up without his muscles aching. 

“I’ll think about it,” He mumbled, finishing off the last of his breakfast in a few eager mouthfuls. 

“Anyway, enough about the pipsqueak, when are you going to ask the waiter for his number?” Oikawa asked light-heartedly, sending Bokuto into embarrassed overdrive while he tried to discreetly gush about how pretty the dark-haired man was.

Hinata zoned in and out of the conversation after that. He wondered if putting up an ad could really solve all his problems? Besides, he liked living on his own, he liked being able to just spread himself out around the apartment without having to be conscious of another person. Then again, he did also get a little lonely at times, especially at night when he came back from work. It would be nice to have another person living with him, someone to greet when he got home, someone that he could study with or watch films with.

Maybe getting an illegal roomie wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

He thought about it for the entire week, pondering with ifs and buts like a competitive game of ping pong in his head. He could get into real trouble for this if he was caught out, he could have some serious repercussions; then again, the week of thinking he’d taken had also ended up being the hardest week of work he’d had to do thus far. He was absolutely exhausted, practically collapsed onto his sofa by Friday evening. 

And it was in that state of pure exhaustion and delirium that he decided putting up an ad was worth a shot.

He text Nishinoya the following Monday, as soon as he got home from class, to let him know the situation and during his hour gap he had between classes and work, he measured out the spare room and took a couple of photos of the unadorned interior. He uploaded them to a couple of well-known Facebook groups, staying clear of any official sites just encase the University found out. He wrote a small description of the room, the local student area, the rent, electric, gas and Wi-Fi. Just the basic adult stuff that Hinata found boring no matter how important it was. He then decided to add a little description of himself, hoping to ward away anyone who’d find him annoying right off the bat. He also made sure to mention how discretion was absolutely necessary since he didn’t want to get caught renting a room he didn’t technically own.

By the time his break was up Hinata had uploaded the ad into the groups, hoping that this would be a quick process and he could drop his hours within the week; but of course life didn’t happen like that.

Over the next couple of days Hinata had received a few applications from people interested in renting, all of which Oikawa decided were degenerates and not at all suitable for Hinata to live with. This pattern hung around for quite a while, Hinata would send Oikawa the profiles of people interested and he’d either turn them away completely or they’d come and view the room and give off weird vibes. Again, Oikawa’s words not Hinata’s, he thought some of the viewers seemed lovely. 

It had gotten to the point where Hinata had given up hope completely, and he was being crushed with the added weight of finding a tenant on top of his already hectic schedule. So, when he woke up from a delicious lay in Sunday morning, a whole month s after he posted the ad, he was ready to log onto his laptop and remove the ad entirely. But just as he was logging on to do so, he received a frantic text message. 

Oikawa: Guess what absolute angel found you a tenant? Me bitch! Hes an old friend of mine, needs a place to stay that’s lowkey. I said he could come over to see your room at 2 p.m. he can be a little direct so don’t freak out if he asks you weird questions! 

Hinata’s stomach fluttered nervously upon reading the message. If Oikawa approved then this person was the real deal, an actual potential housemate. Hinata’s eyes raked in the apartment, it could definitely do with a bit of a clean—Hinata checked the time on his phone—

“Shit” he cursed, leaping up from his position on the sofa and frantically picking up his dirty bowls from the coffee table.

It was 1:55 p.m. 

He ran around like a mad man, turning the sink tap on and dousing his dishes with dish soap to make it look like he was either in the middle of cleaning or at least planning to clean up after himself. He desperately stuffed empty takeaway boxes into his bin and sprayed a thick layer of cinnamon apple scented aerosol to hide the smell of the two-day-old pizza. 

He hoped the person was nice, prayed that they got along. 

He sprinted into the bathroom and tried his best to neaten up his mass product build-up on the table around the sink and then sprinted out again, eyes moving frantically like a squirrel being chased by dogs.

Why did he have so much stuff anyway? He--

The doorbell rang just as he was tactically laying his fluffy blanket over an old wine stain on the sofa, a gift from Oikawa from their last movie marathon night. 

“Coming!” He needed to calm down, he knew needed to get a grip but his hands were rattling like an angry rattlesnakes tail. If this meeting went well he might just be able to get a solid eight hours sleep again, the stakes were high. He stood in front of the door and did a last-minute glance around the place to double-check there wasn’t anything incriminating left out. Confident that the place was as good as it was going to get, he swung the door open and was met with a broad chest, “Hello—” When he looked up he nearly fell flat on his ass.

Hinata’s entire body seemed to seize up. Any thoughts that he’d had in the last twenty minutes were long forgotten and replaced with a singular question. A question that was sat so heavily on his tongue that he didn’t dare to swallow encase he choked on it.

Stood in front of him—no, towering over him was…it was his volleyball idol, his gay awakening. 

Dull blue eyes seemed to search Hinata’s face for an answer as if he’d already been asked a question, “Hello, I’m a friend of Oikawa. He told me to stop by, said you had a spare room available for rent.” He sounded like a regular person, voice on the deeper side of the spectrum and his speech was entirely polite.

Kageyama Tobio.

Hinata’s brain scrambled, mouth opening wide and closing multiple times as he tried to speak whilst also trying to take in the man’s impossibly smooth face, the shiny black hair, the sharp jaw, and slender neck that was attached to deliciously broad shoulders. The noticeable quirk of a questioning eyebrow. 

“Hi!” He said enthusiastically…too enthusiastically. 

Kageyama shifted the weight in his feet uncomfortably as frantic seconds ticked by, then…as quiet minutes turned awkward, the man in the hallway asked “Are you going to let me in?” 

Brown eyes lit up frantically like a child on an insane sugar rush high, he jumped to the side and gave more than enough room for the man to walk in, “Right! Sorry, uhm—it’s this way.” 

Kageyama Tobio was in his apartment.

Kageyama Tobio was in his dingy apartment. 

Why was Kageyama Tobio in his dingy fucking apartment? 

Oikawa, oh my god he was going to murder Oikawa. That man had listened to Hinata’s near-constant gushing about the volleyball player during first year, all the while being his secret friend? Was this real life? Hinata felt like he was either going to wake up or just die at any moment. 

Hinata gawked from the doorway as Kageyama smoothly snooped around the general apartment space. His steps were large, hands firmly hid inside the pockets of his black shorts, he showed no signs of panic, no signs of being anything other than completely relaxed. Which was normal of course, Hinata was the one who was acting abnormally; but could you really blame him? His idol had suddenly walked into his life, into his apartment as if he’d been there all along. How was Kageyama here? What had happened to him? He was on the way to becoming a fucking Olympian for crying out loud and now he’s snooping around an overpriced, illegally advertised spare room. What tragic sequence of events had led the man here? 

“How many draws do you have?” He asked, voice deep and effortlessly dripping with s certain sex appeal that made Hinata quake. He wondered into the kitchen, eyeing up the soapy pots and pans in the sink but gave no emotional reaction whatsoever. 

“Three each” Hinata said factually, not trusting himself to say anything more encase he went into full-blown fanboy mode and made his guest uncomfortable. The orange boy walked up behind Kageyama timidly, his nervous self from middle school jumping out due to the pure shock he was experiencing at whatever the hell was going on. 

If Kageyama minded being followed like a lost puppy, he didn’t mention it. He opened the door to Nishinoya’s room and Hinata watched the man’s stupidly gorgeous face for a reaction, but again Kageyama gave no reaction, simply walked into the room and sat on the bed, bouncing on it slightly a few times before he stood up again. 

Even in Hinata’s frenzy, he could tell there was something about the man that seemed, off. Of course, Hinata had only ever seen him during Volleyball matches but even when he was benched, he seemed to be vibrating with life. The man in front of him was a dead body in comparison, “It’s 300 a week?” 

Hinata’s neck snapped toward the questioning tone, he nodded, “I pay monthly though, so it’s actually 1,200 a month.” He recalled.

Kageyama did a judgemental eye sweep of the room, sooth slender finger tapping rhythmically on the desk in the corner. It was silent for a while, Hinata couldn’t stop himself from shifting nervously in the doorway of the spare room, his eyes glued harshly to the plush carpet under his feet to avoid staring at Kageyama’s thick thighs bulging out from under those shorts.

If this was indeed the flash of consciousness before death, Hinata was going straight to hell for his torturously sinful thoughts. 

“I can have my stuff moved in by Tuesday.” Kageyama’s voice shattered the silence, but the meaning of his words didn’t really sink into Hinata’s distracted brain. 

“Huh?” Hinata gaped dumbly with painstakingly obvious wide eyes. 

The man glided over to the centre of the room, adjusting the band of his shorts as he did so and accidentally flashed Hinata with a tantalizing peak of his smooth hips and the start of a subtle V line— Hinata fell into a small spluttering coughing fit at what his eyes had just been blessed with, Kageyama stared on completely unaware of the fact he was probably seconds away from giving the smaller man an aneurism. 

“I can give you the month’s rent and move in on Tuesday.” He repeated.

“Right, sure ok” Hinata choked out absentmindedly, his brain somewhere else entirely. 

The bluntness seemed to suffice as Kageyama walked toward the apartment door, before he stilled. 

At that moment Hinata had realized what he’d just agreed to, a sick feeling instantly hit his gut and made his legs feel impossibly weak. He—Kageymama—room? His spare room? Kageyama-- 

The man’s broad shoulders suddenly stiffening under his thin white t-shirt as he turned around to face Hinata, who’d since manage to take the four steps to meet him on the way out, with an anxious gaze which only lasted a few seconds, he turned his eyes away and instead decided the door frame was more interesting, “My names Kage—”

“I know.” Hinata blurted, his inner panic-stricken fanboy threatening to spill out.

The taller man’s eyes narrowed so sharply it almost made Hinata want to yelp, “What do you mean, you know? I didn’t tell you my name.” His voice dropped, sending deep shivers through Hinata’s spine that were incredibly hard to suppress. 

What type of reaction was that?

Hinata had made a mistake, he could see it on Kageyama’s face, it was as if he was watching a mask crack at the edges “Oh uh—”

Perhaps he was in hiding? It sounded crazy in Hinata’s head, but it also made sense. He left a very public life behind, and now he was lurking around backstreets and student accommodations. Maybe he was running from something? Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know that he played volleyball. That really was an insane thought… what the hell was wrong with volleyball? It was great. 

“Has Oikawa been talking about me?” Kageyama asked, unknowingly filled the blanks of Hinata’s head with excuses.

“Yes!” The ginger exclaimed, “He does—did…sort of, he mentioned you.” 

Kageyama didn’t look convinced but he didn’t look incredibly invested in his suspicions either, “I’ll be around Monday evening with some stuff.” 

Hinata would’ve never expected Kageyama to be so much of a…blank canvas? Then again, he also didn’t expect to ever see this man again ever let alone have him at his door, let alone live with him.

“Oh, wait” Hinata gasped, rushing back into the living room and reaching for the spares, “Here,” He handed Kageyama Nishinoya’s old key, “I work till late, so I probably won’t be here to let you in.” 

The taller man made some kind of “Ah” sound before he gently swiped the keys from Hinata’s much smaller hands, “Thanks.”

There was no handshake, no bowing, not even a smile from Kageyama before he drifted out of Hinata’s field of view.

The meeting of Kageyama Tobio was in Hinata’s opinion, awkward. Hinata was overflowing with so many feelings of pleasure, relief, excitement, anxiety, and impending fear, while Kageyama was just…there? Existing, floating down the stairs of his apartment complex like a ghost.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> literally rapid uploading anxiety is a thing im wijuhfreijhahaha   
> ok ill shut up enjoy

Oikawa’s loud, obnoxious wheeze laugh echoed throughout Hinata’s, soon to be shared, apartment while Hinata resisted the urge to whack his head repeatedly on the wooden coffee table in front of him. 

“Yo—ou hhhhhh—” The taller man couldn’t even form a sentence without wheezing in hilarity at the tragically awkward account Hinata had just described, “Ahh—I can’t—breahhhahahahhhhh”

“It isn’t funny! You lied to me!” Hinata was horrified at the prospect of being in the same room with Kageyama for more than a minute, let alone every single day of the week for the foreseeable future. After all, Hinata could recount the near entirety of Kageyama’s Volleyball career before it’d even become an official career. He knew everything there was to know about the man's training routine, his weaknesses, even his diet for god sakes. 

The level of creepy that Hinata felt was immeasurable. 

Oikawa was bright red and teary-eyed while he tried to compose himself, but every time he’d try to take a deep breath he’d remember something and it’d trigger a whole new fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Hinata probably should have been happy to see the man laughing so hard, but because it was very much at his expense, he absolutely hated it. No, he wished misery on the perfectly styled man for the rest of his life. 

“Right, firstly” Oikawa’s strangled voiced broke as he finally pulled himself off the floor and hopped back onto the sofa he’d fallen off of, a sickeningly amused smile still plastered on his face, “I didn’t lie to you, I told you I had a friend coming—”

“You didn’t tell me it was Kageyama Tobio!” Hinata cut him off with a screamed, pulling his hair out with stress. 

Oikawa simply shrugged, “I thought it’d be a nice surprise—”

“It wasn’t! It was horrifying and now—now he’s—” Hinata cut himself off with a hectic scream, which only made Oikawa start laughing again, “Stop laughing at me!” 

“I don’t understand why you’re so worried, it’s just Kageyama.” Oikawa said brazenly. 

Hinata pretty much became the embodiment of a question mark, exclamation mark duo “Exactly! It’s Kageyama! It’s hes—” Hinata could barely speak, barley even breath he was so worked up, “You know—”

“That he was the subject of your very first wet dream—”

“Tooru!” Hinata shrieked hysterically, embarrassed beyond belief. 

“Ok ok ok! Just stop yelling,” he grinned, “I know he means a lot to you,—in a fanboy kinda way.” Hinata nodded along, glad that he did actually understand where he was coming from, if he did say it with minimal detail, “But he’s a person too, not even that interesting of a person to be honest. He’s pretty average.”

Hinata thought back to the brief meeting they had, and Oikawa’s words rang true. Kageyama didn’t engage in small talk, didn’t try to either. He asked some basic questions, made up his mind, and then left. He’d gone straight from A to B, he took no detours or scenic routes.

“How do you know him?” Hinata asked calmly changing the subject. 

Oikawa’s eyes lit up as memories flooded his brain, “Volleyball Junior Nationals, we played against his middle school team quite a lot for training.” He spoke casually, reveling in how Hinata’s eyes dilated while he listened, “We won a few matches, they won a few…but then when nationals came, they destroyed us.” Hinata remembered the match, Oikawa’s team was the sixth out of eleven teams to face Kageyama’s, and the sixth to lose. Back then, Kageyama was on the path to becoming the top setter in the country, “I’d never spoken to Tobio before that, but I respected the way he played so I introduced myself. Turns out he was planning on going to Olympic level too, so we talked, became friends etc.” Oikawa spoke fondly of the memories, but Hinata couldn’t help but remember the day when, well…it was the day that never came. 

“What happened?” Hinata whispered vaguely, eyes cast down to his hands as he stroked up his arm for comfort's sake. 

It was obvious what Hinata was asking. It was his biggest question. What happened to Kageyama? If he’d simply announced retirement then Hinata wouldn’t have been as bothered by his absence from the sport, but he didn’t do that. Kageyama literally vanished, it was like he’d never even existed. 

He won the high school national championships and then just…nothing, no interviews, no sightings of him, no nothing for years until now, and of all places he decided to make his social debut in Hinata’s apartment. 

“I don’t know, he never told me.” Although he masked it well, it was clear to Hinata that Oikawa was hurt by being kept in the dark, despite being an actual friend of Kageyama’s. It was only noticeable for a second though, Oikawa’s petty and snarky self was back with the snap of a finger, “I’m pretty sure the only person who knows what happened is Kageyama, so if you want to know you need too…” 

“Need to what?” Hinata asked with gullible excitement.

“You need to talk to him, and preferably let him live with you as well.” Hinata was beyond stubborn sometimes, and despite agreeing to the living situation earlier, he was incredibly tempted to ask Oikawa to tell Kageyama he’d changed his mind, “Think about it this way, this isn’t just helping you with rent…it’s helping Tobio too,” Hinata’s heart stopped at that point of view, “Don’t you want to help Tobio?” 

“I feel very manipulated right now.” Hinata huffed.

Oikawa smiled once again, “As long as you’re aware,” crossing one long leg over the other, “When is he moving in?” 

Hinata answered at once, “Some point today.” 

Oikawa couldn’t suppress his gut reaction, “Oof” 

Hinata glared, “Not helping Oinky boy.” Hinata’s brain was racing with questions, “Does he—uh, I mean I didn’t mention that I knew him because of Volleyball—so, like I don’t know—I don’t know how to say what I’m trying to say.” Hinata sighed in frustration, leaning himself back into the sofa and closing his eyes for a brief moment of peace before opening them again, just in time to see a worried expression on his friends face. 

Oikawa somehow managed to decipher what the Fanta can was trying to say, “I wouldn’t mention Volleyball to him.” Oikawa advised, “Like I said I don’t know what happened and there’s probably a reason for that. Tobio loved Volleyball, he really loved it. So… for him to just stop—something really bad must’ve happened, and I wouldn’t want to ask and risk triggering something.” It was rare for Oikawa to be so openly concerned about his friends, let alone so serious. 

Hinata took the man’s warnings to heart, he wouldn’t mention Volleyball at all. As far as Kageyama was concerned, Hinata had absolutely no clue who he was. 

The man stood up, stretching as he did so and grabbing his water from the table “Well I’ll be off then, I’d hate to disturb you and you’re new roommate boning—” Hinata lobbed a pillow at him with surprising accuracy, “bonding! Bonding I meant to say bonding.”

“Get out of my house Oikawa” Hinata really tried his best to be intimidating, but of course like the cinnamon bun he truly is he ended up smiling.

He watched as Oikawa dodged through the maze of boxes that’d been delivered yesterday, making his way out the door with a large wave. 

As soon as Hinata was alone he completely deflated into the sofa, heavy eyelids closing as he tried to calm his volcanic nerves. It could be worse, Hinata at least had work tonight so he’d be home late. He didn’t have to awkwardly watch Kageyama move in, that was a plus. Although he didn’t need to be at work for another two hours yet, he had time to kill.

He decided to be proactive instead of sitting and drowning in his own anxiety. He cleaned the kitchen completely, mopped the floor, he hoovered the living room carpet, he did his laundry and he even moved some of his shower items into the storage container in his room. God, his room needed work. It was embarrassing having posters of a famous volleyball player plastered to his walls before, but now it was infinitely more incriminating. He carefully removed the old posters of Kageyama, rolled them up and then stuffed them under his bed to never be hung again. By the time Hinata had cleaned the house, showered, and put on his work uniform, an annoying three-piece black suit, it was time to catch his train. 

The atmosphere at work was how it was every night, quiet. He clocked himself in, placed his coat and bag and into his locker, said hello to the boss and then made his way lazily to his station. 

“Hinata!” His colleague, Kuroo, beamed from the bar. 

Hinata joined their shared station, an exhausted expression on his face “Hey Kuroo.” Hinata grumbled. Everyone looked good in a three-piece, well he thought everyone did until he had to wear one for hours at a time. 

“Whoa, long day?” Kuroo asked with an amused chuckled, polishing some glasses to look busy when customers started to roll over. 

Hinata worked at a high-class bar, hence the fancy uniform, it was typically full of old rich businessman who wanted whisky on the rocks, or miserable housewives suffering from misogyny who simply needed a vodka shot, or two, or twelve. As far as bar jobs went, it was very simple and low stress. 

He served whoever came over, silently praying that they wouldn’t choose to sit at the bar. Hinata hated that, it made him feel awkward. It was like having someone stare you down as you did your job, it felt horrid and made him anxious as hell. Kuroo however, was his polar opposite. He loved it when people sat at the bar, he loved to talk to them and learn their life story…also their net worth if he could.

The only time he didn’t like people at the bar was when a certain someone walked past.

Kuroo’s eyes widened as that person walked past with a tray of drinks, whisky of course, “Hey Kenma, you’re looking real good today.” Kuroo tried his absolute best to flirt but there were multiple issues with it. The first being he was terrible at it, the second being Kenma.

“It’s the same suit I wear every day, shut up.” Kuroo always laughed through the pain of rejection, while Hinata simply laughed at him. 

“You know he wants nothing to do with you right?” Hinata told the spikey-haired bean sprout, rubbing salt in the wound just as Oikawa had taught him to. 

Kuroo waved him off, “He likes me, I know he does,” Kenma began his walk back to his station at the other end of the bar, once again walking past, “Kenm—”

“No.” The long-haired man shut down simply and savagely. 

“Wow, coulda fooled me” Hinata teased. 

Kuroo groaned and got back to polishing glasses, waiting for the next gentleman to order the same stupid drink, “Whatever, anyway. Hows school going? Got any homework you need help with?” 

Kuroo was at least two years older than Hinata, and although that wasn’t a lot it was enough for Kuroo to treat the tangerine like an absolute child. Especially because Hinata was still studying, and Kuroo was in full time work and living on his own like a proper adult. 

“Not unless you want to write a two-thousand-word assignment on the importance of warming up muscles before training.” Hinata should really get a start on that.

“Yikes, never mind.” Kuroo snickered, “Sucks to be you.” 

Hinata laughed wholesomely in response, the rest of his shift was incredibly uneventful, apart from Kuroo trying his luck time and time again with Kenma, and he was torn between feeling glad that his shift was nearly over to end his boredom, or be terrified at the thought of going home to his new roommate. 

Before Hinata could blink he found himself on the train home, a complete nervous wreck. He was so nervous in fact that he forgot to change out of his uniform before he left work, so now he was on a train at gone 1 a.m. in some swanky looking suit practically begging to be robbed and murdered. 

Despite all the anxiety surrounding his new living situation, Hinata’s was somewhat excited. He was going to be living with his idol, the man who’d made him fall in love with Volleyball. Kageyama was practically the reason he wanted to study physical education at university, the man was a living inspiration despite the mystery that surrounded him.< p> A mystery that Hinata desperately wanted to solve. 

Then again, Hinata had promised that he’d never mention Volleyball so…Kageyama would likely stay a massive mystery to him.

He just hoped Kageyama didn’t bring any girls home with him, Hinata was sure his heart would break if he just so happened to hear anything like that.

Hinata arrived home at the grand time of 1:45 a.m. and tried his absolute best to be silent while he pushed the door open and slung his backpack inside the door. But to his surprise, the T.V. illuminated the majority of the living room. Kageyama was sat on the sofa with a tall glass of milk to his lips watching blue planet. The view was incredibly endearing to Hinata, who’d only ever seen the man sweaty and serious up until that point. 

When the door closed behind Hinata Kageyama slowly peeled his eyes away from the penguin fight in front of him. Hinata’s breath hitched, seeing the athlete all casual and comfy in a large grey hoodie being illuminated in blue hues by the T.V. He watched as Kageyama’s eyes widened upon looking at him, only for a split second, before he whipped back around to the T.V. and took on a large gulp of his milk. 

Hinata dropped his tired head, Kageyama probably forgot that he was living with another person now. He didn’t want to disturb Kageyama’s downtime so instead of leaving his bag in the doorway, like he normally did, he picked it up and was about to take it into his room when the man’s voice broke. 

“How was work?” He called out.

Hinata stopped dead by his door and slowly began to spin on his heels. Kageyama had spun around on the sofa, arm resting slack on the back the same way you’d drive with one hand on the wheel and one out of the window, expect Kageyama’s wheel was a glass of milk. Didn’t change the fact that it was annoyingly attractive though. 

“It was uh, work I guess?” Hinata felt like an idiot, he’d never speak so…so boringly to other people but he just didn’t know what to say. He already had an image of who Kageyama was in his head, and he’d had that image for literal years the majority of his life. Every time he looked at Kageyama that image broke a little, and he didn’t want it to break. That image had kept him going through some of the most challenging times of his life, he couldn’t just discard it. 

Kageyama continued to look—no not look, stare at Hinata. He couldn’t tell if he had something wrong with his face, or if maybe he’d done up his waistcoat buttons wrong again and looked like an idiot or maybe he’d—

“Where do you work?” Kageyama asked, no signs of trickery in his face but equally there were no signs of curiosity either. 

Hinata remembered Oikawa saying that he could be a little direct, perhaps this was what he was talking about, “Do you know the Ushijima working men’s club?” 

“I’ve heard of it, but it seems a little too high end for me.” Kageyama replied, his expression not wandering too far away from its default, blank unamused mask. 

Hinata was beginning to feel his face heat up by the way Kageyama was just refusing to look away from him, “Well, I work there. It’s just full of old businessmen looking to cheat on their wives with younger models.” 

Kageyama huffed out a sound that could barely be described as amused, “Sounds horrid.” The man finally looked back to the T.V screen after that, and Hinata rushed into his room and bolted the door behind him.

He stripped out of his irritating work uniform and climbed into one of the multiple sweatsuits he owned, the warm softness of the fabric making him feel more relaxed. Hinata’s instinct was to go into the kitchen and make himself a hot chocolate like he always did before bed, but the quiet sounds of sea birds squawking on the T.V. told him to stay in bed and hide. 

He wanted his hot chocolate; he couldn’t sleep well without it, but he didn’t think he could handle a long-term interaction with the man in the living room. 

Wait what?

No

No, this was stupid. It’s Hinata’s apartment too, he shouldn’t be scared to make a hot chocolate in his own damn kitchen. 

He pushed his door open again, this time armed with the comfort of his hoodie, and made his way leisurely into the kitchen to boil the kettle. However, one small thing he had overlooked was the fact that the kitchen was technically apart of the living room. He silently cursed the open floor plan as he stood by the kettle, ignoring the sound of Sir David Attenborough in the background. He pulled open his hot chocolate powder from the cupboard and poured two generous spoonsfuls into his mug—

“What are you making?” Hinata leapt out of his skin at how close the deep voice was, spilling half of his chocolate power all over the kitchen side. He swung around and instantly had to anchor his head up at the height difference, Kageyama was gazing down at him with heavy eyes, “Oh sorry...I didn’t mean to startle you.”

As Hinata glanced up into those heavy eyes he noticed something, something that must’ve been incredibly evident because he wasn’t the most perceptive person.  
Kageyama’s eyes held nothing.

There was no spark, no glint no emotion. If eyes were the window to the soul, well…Kageyama didn’t seem to have one. 

Hinata’s heart seemed to ache at the view. It was almost painful to see.

“Hot chocolate.” He replied, turning back around and scooping the wasted powder into his hand before throwing it in the bin without saying much else. 

Kageyama stayed where he was, not super close to Hinata but close enough for it to be considered slightly creepy, watching intently as Hinata made his drink.

“Can I ask a question?” 

Hinata was tired and irritable, it wasn’t his fault that his inner Oikawa leaped out, “You’ve been asking me a lot of questions today Kageyama.” 

The taller man stiffened slightly, wincing at the reply, “In my defense, I’ve known you for all of 5 minutes, questions are pretty common when you don’t know somebody. Or am I wrong in thinking that?” There was an edge to the man's voice this time, bordering on emotional but not quite passing the threshold. 

Of course, Hinata kept forgetting. Hinata knew Kageyama, Kageyama had no clue who Hinata was. 

“No, you’re right.” He sighed, blowing on the steaming up of liquid in his hands and taking a small burning sip from his mug, “What do you need?” 

Hinata wasn’t really expecting a specific type of question, but the one he received was certainly not on the list he’d have made, “How do you adjust the showerhead?”

“What?” Hinata’s forehead crinkled in disbelief. 

“The shower head, it’s too low for me.” Kageyama’s voice returned to being flat, deep and with all sense of personality crushed.

“You twist it.” Hinata replied, picking up his mug and bringing it to his lips for another satisfying sip.

“How?” 

Hinata groaned, banging his mug on the kitchen counter and practically storming off into the bathroom. Of course, Kageyama followed. Hinata stepped into the shower and tugged on the little leaver that allowed you to slide the shower head up and down, “Happy now?” 

When Hinata’s head snapped around, he was sure for a split second he saw the man wipe a smile off his lips, “It’s still too low.” Kageyama pressed.

“Then you do it!” 

At the exact moment Hinata went to step out of the shower Kageyama stepped in, and since Hinata was a lot smaller and apparently lighter than the athlete, when Hinata collided with his solid chest he went flying into the back wall, landing mere millimeters from the shower’s power button. He had no choice but to watch from inside the shower, with Kageyama, as the tall man yanked the shower head up. 

Hinata was incredibly annoyed by the fact that all he could do was stare at the mans arms flexing, watching as one thick vein popped out deliciously.

Bad Hinata! Very bad Hinata. 

“Is this height ok for you?” Kageyama asked, anchoring his head down to meet Hinata’s incredibly irritated gaze, “I guess not.” Kageyama caught on.

So, he can at least read human emotions. 

He just doesn’t seem to have any of his own. 

“Anything else you need help with while I’m here?” Hinata asked once they’d finished adjusting the shower, keen to get out of the tight space that wasn’t made to house two bodies at once. 

Kageyama stood in blank contemplation for a few minutes, “Want to do a big shop and stock up?” 

“Why would I need to do a big shop? I already have food in the fridge.” 

“Well yeah…but if we stock up it’ll save money in the long run.” 

Hinata sighed, “I guess, also can we have this conversation like…not in the shower?” 

As if Kageyama had completely forgotten where the two were, his cheeks flushed the slightest colour of pink, “Right.” He stepped out of the shower and walked a couple of paces, and it was then that Hinata noticed it. 

It was slight, so incredibly slight; but to someone who’d studied the human body for years it was as clear as day.

Kageyama had a limp. 

Hinata followed the man back into the living room, eyes glued to his right ankle. It was like the foot stuttered upon impact with the floor, every single step that right leg took forward was just slightly too late.

Hinata didn’t think before he asked, “Did you hurt your foot or something?” 

Kageyama stopped, swirling around with the tightest look on his face, as if he was being scalped by an invisible force, “Oh yeah…I did.” He said, lifting up his right ankle a little, “I whacked it when I was moving boxes earlier, it’ll be fine in a few hours.” Kageyama was the very definition of tight lipped, “When are you free to shop?” 

Hinata felt like his brain blinked along with his eyes at the sudden change of conversation, “Uh---probably the weekend honestly.” He said, grabbing his cup of hot chocolate from the kitchen, thankfully it was still warm, “I should get to bed now though…so, uh—” Did he say goodnight? Was that weird to say? 

Kageyama nodded in understanding and took himself back to the sofa, “I’ll keep the volume down.” He said, waving the remote control in the air.

Hinata didn’t spare him a second glance as he went into his room, making sure to lock the door behind him. He settled himself in for the night, and one thought was persistent. Kageyama lied. Hinata was gullible most of the time, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t spot a lie when he saw one. 

Kageyama had a limp, and it wasn’t from tripping over boxes.


	4. Chapter 4

It’d officially been a whole week living with Kageyama, and in all honesty, the two didn’t see each other much. Kageyama was either in his room most of the time or out god knows where doing god knows what until late. Although, they did go shopping yesterday like they said they would and it was…weird. Kageyama was all wrapped up, hood up and mask on, the whole nine yards and because of that Hinata couldn’t hear anything he was saying. So, he opted to say nothing. They barely spoke the entire time, and when they did it was the type of awkward small talk that did nothing but make you uncomfortable. 

On top of that, Hinata was incredibly conscious of the fact that he lived with another person and it wasn’t comforting like he imagined. No, if anything it was unnerving. He hadn’t cooked food the whole week because he was scared of bumping into Kageyama, why? he had no idea. His fears were entirely irrational because Kageyama had done nothing but be polite toward him. 

Hinata was just in a state of constant freak out, he felt like he was teetering on the edge of insanity most days.

Naturally, he told Oikawa about his predicament but of course he found it hilarious and made empty promises that he’d sort it. 

At this point, Hinata would rather have kept working the hours he was instead of dropping down to three, because he felt a hell of a lot more at home in that bar than he did in his own home. 

Since it was Saturday, and the thought of spending a whole day with Kageyama made him feel physically ill with nervous butterflies, he’d stayed way later than normal at the foodbank he volunteered at. He was not looking forward to going home, but he had to eventually. He could only pray that when he walked in the door Kageyama was in his room.

To Hinata’s horror, when he reached his front door, he could not only hear Kageyama but—

He pushed the door opened and let it close behind him, almost thinking he’d be able to get away with just sneaking in undetected. Oh, what a fool he was. 

Oikawa was sat on the sofa facing the door with a cup of tea in hand and a smile on his face and Kageyama, for some reason had light blue butterfly clips holding up his bangs. 

Oikawa stood up immediately, a large smile on his face “Shouyou!” Hinata didn’t smile back, in fact he didn’t do anything but stare at the man with an exhausted expression. In classic Oikawa fashion, he was overdramatic and slumped back into the sofa with a loud sigh, “Don’t be like that, come sit down” He was being overly enthusiastic which meant either he was up to something, or this was his version of sorting things, or possibly both. Probably both. “We’re getting takeaway and watching alien films.”

Hinata was mentally not himself, mentally he was worn down so thin that the world of fantasy and reality could meld “You’re the only one who likes alien films, Oikawa.”

The man faked offense, “Fine, no meat bu--” Hinata was on the sofa before Oikawa could even finish his sentence, earning a hearty wheezing laugh from the older man.

Hinata swiped a warm bun from the bag on the table before the two could even blink. He settled himself down on the sofa consciously putting Oikawa between them.

Awkwardness filled the air that was so strong not even Oikawa could lessen it, and oh boy did he try to. He tried to ask their opinions on the film, which character was their favorite, he even ordered more takeout and asked if they wanted to watch another film but the two were shadows of who they really were around each other. Oikawa had never experienced something like that before. He’d never met two people so equally petrified of each other. He knew it would’ve been bad since it takes a lot for Kageyama to message him and ask for help…like a lot; and his concern was certainly justified. 

Thankfully, the small issues seemed to be simple fixes really, all they needed to do was have an open discussion a little chat; and Oikawa was going to make them.

“I have an idea, why don’t we play a game. Oikawa paused for a second of contemplation, “Let’s play…21 questions,” Both Kageyama and Hinata stiffened, Oikawa noticed of course “Wow, really? That bad?” 

“Oikawa” Hinata half warned and half begged him to stop whatever he was doing or planning to do, but the determined glimmer in Oikawa’s eyes didn’t waver. 

“No, you two clearly need outside intervention.” He pressed, “You’ve both complained to me about each other—”

“You complained about me?” They both said in unison, both holding the same lightly annoyed tone. Oikawa didn’t give the pair any time to overthink the verbal bondage. 

“Look! You’re communicating better already!” He smiled, “Now” Hinata wanted the ground to swallow him up, he was an adult for god sake he didn’t need an intervention— “I hear you’ve been anti-social Hinata?” 

“Oh, no! I am not anti-social!” Hinata instantly became defensive because…well it was a fair point, but there was no way he was going to have Oikawa so blatantly—Kageyama scoffed next to him, and Hinata’s ears turned to fire “Oh what now you have emotional range? Haven’t you been the one hiding in your room the entire time?” He bit.

“Pfffahhhhahh—” Oikawa burst out laughing, shoving a hand to his face to stop the obnoxious wheeze from being too loud. 

Kageyama was sat taller in an instant, “Why are you having a go at me I haven’t done anything.” 

Thankfully, the argument was stopped before it ever had room to grow “Why are you two so stiff around each other!” Oikawa choked out, forcing his laugh down his throat and saving it for a later date, “Hinata you’re the most socially annoying twerp I know, it isn’t like you to be so anxious.” Oikawa knew exactly why Hinata was anxious, he just couldn’t vocalize why in front of Kageyama. 

There was nothing but stubborn silence in the room. 

Hinata knew why he was uncomfortable; his lifelong expectations had collided with a harsh reality and he was struggling to accept it. The reality that the man he lived with was Kageyama Tobio. Forget about sounding like a broken record, Hinata felt like one. Imagine if you were a diehard Brittney Spears fan and then she suddenly just moved into your house and you couldn’t even mention the fact she was Brittney Spears? It was pure insanity! 

Oikawa groaned dramatically, standing up and walking into the kitchen, raiding Hinata’s cupboards “What are you doing?” Hinata asked. 

The man pulled out a large bottle of Vodka and a shot glass, “Forget the intervention, I have a better idea. Drinks. We’re drinking our problems away.” Oikawa took three shots in an alarming amount of time. 

To Hinata’s astonishment, Kageyama was quick to join in, downing a couple of shots like water before turning to the orange man, offering him a glass “It’s better than whatever he was trying to get us to do earlier.” 

Hinata just sat on the sofa for a couple of minutes, watching as both Oikawa and Kageyama made enough drinks to supply a small army before his own inner demons took hold, “Fuck it,” He groaned, standing from his spot and walking over, squeezing his way between the two men, snatching the glass that Kageyama had offered him, “Gimmie five.”

Oikawa cheered, “That’s my boy!” watching as the smallest of the three shot back the neat spirits like a true champion, “Let’s just drink, invite some friends over—be social. I’m sure it’d be less tense with alcohol and friends.” 

Hinata was tentative, he knew what he was like when he was drunk, and he also knew what Oikawa was like when he was drunk. It’d be an absolute mess; it’d be loud and stupid and could probably create more issues than it solved, but at that moment in time Hinata really didn’t care about his future self. He’d had a horrid week, he had nothing going on the next day and the more shots he took the more he wanted to just drink every single one of his worries away. 

“I’ll set up a playlist.” Hinata said, taking one large gulp of his own concoction of Voda, pink Gin and lemonade before heading into his room.

He riffled for his Bluetooth speaker and once he found it began scrolling through Spotify for some decent party songs. If Hinata was going to get drunk, it wasn’t going to be to the vile sound of Drum and Bass, it was going to be to Sean Kingston and Black Eyed Peas. In the time it took him to connect to his speaker and compile a good que of songs Oikawa and Kageyama between them had finished at least half a bottle of Vodka and were guzzling the second round of mixed spirits. 

Hinata walked into the front room and his heart nearly fell out of his ass at the sight of Kageyama smiling. He was smiling, and he had the type of smile that was so warm and welcoming and kind that it made Hinata want to make him smile and never stop. 

Hinata was good though, he shoved those gut reactions back as deep as he could. 

As soon as Hinata’s butt collided with the sofa cushion Kageyama was handing him a drink, “What is it?” Hinata asked as he sniffed the liquid. It didn’t really smell too strongly of anything but there were small hints of vodka. 

“Try it” Kageyama pressed.

Hinata, viewing the drink as some kind of peace offering, took a hesitant sip. His tastebuds were instantly on fire, face scrunching in revulsion as he pulled the drink away from his face, “What the fuck is that!” He hacked, covering his mouth and nose as if there was a toxic chemical in the air. 

Kageyama, who was slightly wavy already, simply smiled “It’s Whisky, Vodka, Spiced Rum and a little bit of Coke.” 

“Call me crazy but I think the spirits are supposed to be the component that’s little, not the mixer.” Hinata was offended by the drink, clearly, this man either had a death wish or an insane alcohol tolerance because just in that one sip Hinata felt like he’d lost a solid twenty-five percent of his motor functions. 

But the way Kageyama was looking at him so intently with kind eyes was just…it was too much for Hinata to bear, and so he made his first mistake of the night which was to throw that vile drink down his throat. 

Kageyama cheered from across the sofa, praising his drinking abilities. 

The next mistake of the night was when Oikawa texted Iwaizumi and Bokuto to come over and join, because that prompted Hinata to text Kuroo and Kenma to join, and before he knew it the lights were off, Bokuto’s mini disco ball which spun bright colored hues of green red and blue lit up the room, and Hinata was wobbling about trying to find his own bathroom. 

He was drunk.

Everyone was drunk. 

Hinata felt like it’d only been an hour max, but in actuality, it was nearly 3 a.m. and he’d gotten through around five tequila shots, two large cups of his mix of Voda, Gin and Lemonade and two more classes of whatever the fuck type of demon juice Kageyama was drinking. 

Hinata was dizzy, he could remember things still though, so he knew he wasn’t blackout level bad, thank god. 

All in all, it’d been a great idea to drink. Kageyama was talking to everyone, in fact he was being quite social. He even giggled once and Hinata thought he was going to combust on the spot when he realized that adorable noise had came from his roommate. In fact, Hinata had to actively stop himself from complimenting him on multiple occasions which was interesting to watch to say the least. 

Bokuto, Oikawa and Kuroo were stomp—dancing in the living room, belting out the lyrics to Kelly Clarkson and sloshing alcohol all over the kitchen floor, turning the wooden surface into a sticky slick n slide. Kenma was sat on the sofa in his own world, sipping on a glad of barely alcoholic lemonade and playing some game, watching on in horror as Bokuto slipped on whatever alcohol was on the floor and went flying into the kitchen cabinets with a harsh thud. 

Hinata had retreated to his room to try and charge his phone, but of course, in his drunken state, he couldn’t find it. So, he had no choice but to announce to the group of drunken buffoons “Does anyone have a phone charger I can borrow?” Hinata lightly slurred as he stumbled out of his room, his brain not even trying to make sense of the hectic scene in front of him.

The mini crowd in front of him was full of loud booing and no’s, until it wasn’t “Tobio does!havesamephone—hicc—” Oikawa slurred, nearly spilling his glass of red wine over the carpet. 

At least Hinata wasn’t as drunk as them. 

The ginger made his way across the bustling apartment, not thinking when he loudly knocked on Kageyama’s room. When he got no response, he assumed it was because he couldn’t hear his knocks over the loud music, he opened the unlocked door and stumbled in with a drunken giggle. His humor was quickly stolen from the view in front of him though, Kageyama was shirtless wiping down his wet chest with a towel. He was toned to perfection, waist small and shoulders wide with protruding collarbones that made Hinata’s knees weaken to such an extent he nearly dropped to them on the spot.

“Whahh sorwy” Hinata yelped, hands instantly shooting to his face to hide his eyes, and the fact that he was blushing like a schoolgirl. He went to turn and leave, but the door closed behind him so lightly that he barely even heard it and he walked straight into the back of it.

Kageyama’s deep voice seemed to vibrate the entire room, “It’s fine—Oikawa just spilt wine on me.” He seemed relaxed and calm and not drunk at all which was incredibly surprising. He didn’t seem to care that Hinata was in the room, or that he was shirtless. Then again, he’d probably assumed Hinata was straight. “What do you need?” 

“Uh—phone charger” Hinata said behind his hands, he couldn’t look he really couldn’t look. 

But when Kageyama unplugged his charger and tossed it at him, he had no choice but to use his hands to pick it up. He sighed quietly to himself as he removed his shaky hands, eyes searching the floor for the charger. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t see in the darkroom. He swatted the main lights on to Kageyama’s displeasure, “Why would you do that?” he hissed, eyes squinting to adjust. 

Hinata’s looked toward the voice and into Kageyama’s electric blue eyes and couldn’t help but notice the subtle blush on his face as he continued to stare. Kageyama rifled through his draws and pulled on a clean shirt that didn’t reek of red wine.

Even though Hinata wouldn’t have cared if he’d stayed shirtless the rest of the night. 

Hinata noticed the white cable peeking out from under the man’s desk and lunged for it, knees bashing harshly on rough carpet without a care as he plugged it into the nearest wall socket and shoving his phone on charge just before it died. 

“Hey um…” Kageyama started, sitting himself down on his bed. The view was delicious, Hinata had to look up to see Kageyama and from this angle that man could’ve told Hinata to jump off a bridge and he’d do it with no questions asked, “I—I’m not really good at talking to people but…I mean, I’ll try my best to be more social and stuff.” 

Hinata’s heart clenched at the attempt, and he was embarrassingly quick to jump onto the open spot next to Kageyama, “I’ll try too, I want to be friends Kageyama.” Hinata slurred, shifting on the bed nervously, “And I’m—well, I’m sorry about being anti-social. You just—ma—ke me nervous.” 

“No, no it’s ok. I’d be nervous if I had a strange—hicc-ips er suddenly living with me.” Hinata laughed, a reaction that surprised Kageyama “Whats so funny?” 

Hinata was giggling like a child who’d heard a really good innuendo, his hand covering his mouth and his face reddening by the second, “You—you’re drunk.”

“Oh shut up” Kageyama stifled his own laughter, flopping himself back onto his bed and looking up at the blank ceiling as if there were a thousands stars dancing above him.

Hinata joined him, keeping a secure distance away from the man but even then…he felt closer than he’d ever been to him, “You’re a lot more” Hinata made some absurd hand gesture, like jazz hands-only horrible and not at all jazz hands, “Good at words, when you’re drunk.” 

“I get that a lot,” Kageyama said. 

“Maybe I should just keep you drunk then.” Hinata suggested jokingly, “Won’t be hard with the grim drinks you make.” 

The taller man’s tone seemed offended, yet he smiled as he spoke, “Theres nothing wrong with my drinks.”

“Theres nothing right with your drinks Bakayama! They taste like battery acid,” Hinata whined, his legs kicking off the bed much like a baby who needed changing. 

Kageyama laughed deeply, the type that came from the chest; and when Hinata turned to catch a glimpse of the beauty, it was as if there was a different person inside of Kageyama’s body. He looked energetic, excited. He looked alive, like the mask he’d been wearing had fallen off in his drunken state and he couldn’t quite find it again to put it back on. 

“If it helps, I wasn’t avoiding you because you made me feel uncomfortable.” Kageyama said, eyes glistening, “I—Oikawa talks about you a fair bit, so I was just nervous—but he—hicc—he didn’t say you were—” Kageyama cut himself of with his own fit of embarrassed laughter.

Hinata’s attention was peaked, “What? That I was what Bakayama tell me!” He whined, rolling over and grabbing the man’s thick forearm, shaking him back and forth as hard as he could in his dizzy state.

Kageyama continued to laugh at himself for a few minutes, before he finally took in a deep sigh and said, “Oikawa knows I have a---pffff---”

“Bakayama!” 

“I have a thing for gingers.” Out of all the things Hinata thought would come out of his mouth, that definitely wasn’t one of them, “And you always wear that tight three-piece suit—”

“It’s for work” Hinata stressed.

“It’s hot.” Kageyama drunk was every bit as terrifying as Kageyama sober. He was either incredibly disinterested or incredibly interested, there didn’t seem to be much wiggle room between those two states. Other than the gargantuan amount of alcohol of course.

Hinata could tell that Kageyama wasn’t trying to hit on him, he was just being honest. Like a child who says what they think no matter how bold it was. 

Hinata had no verbal comeback for the flattering assault he’d just been dealt, instead, he let go of the grip he had on Kageyama’s arms and shoved in head down into the duvet bellow to hide the aggressive shade of red he was turning. 

He should’ve kept the lights off. 

“I hate that suit” Hinata grumbled to himself in complaint, but Kageyama heard it. 

“You shouldn’t, I bet you get hit on loads.”

Hinata couldn’t help but laugh, “As if—” Then, a realization finally hit him, “Wait are you…?” Hinata trailed off, not wanting to assume anything. 

“Gay?” Kageyama asked, eyebrow raised. Hinata nodded, “Yep, sorry if that makes you uncom—”

“No, no it’s—I mean, me too.” Hinata stammered, Kageyama’s eyes widened a little, noticeably shocked by the information and instead of letting an awkward silence consume them like it had before Hinata was bold, “What? Do I look straight?” 

The smile that settled on Kageyama’s lips was relieving, “You look like the type of guy who’d be into really cute girls, ya know?” 

Hinata retched, “That’s vile.” 

“It was the matching brand tracksuits for me” Kageyama said. 

“I will drop my degree this instant if it makes me look straight.” Hinata joked, absentmindedly rolling a touch closer to the warm body next to him.

“What is your degree?” 

“Sports therapy!” Hinata exclaimed with pride, a large smile on his face. 

Kageyama laughed at the theatrics, “Why sports therapy?” 

“Well, because! I used to—” Hinata thankfully had the brainpower to stop himself. In that moment of slight shocked sobriety he realized just who he was talking to, and how fucking horrid of a situation he’d just managed to avoid. 

But the dark-haired man looked on with genuine curiosity, with real interest about Hinata and his life, “What?” 

“No, I can’t say.” Hinata sighed, slumping face-first back into Kageyama’s duvet. 

The man was clearly confused, “What do you mean you can’t say?” 

Hinata could spin it, he knew he could, he’d been friends with Oikawa long enough to make people believe he was slightly crazy when he wanted to hide something, “It’s a secret.”  
“Oh, a secret?” Kageyama’s eyes were wide with amusement, as was his smile and his general demeanor, “If you told me would you have to kill me?” 

More like if I told you, you’d kill me, Hinata thought “Exactly!” 

The two chatted aimlessly for what felt like no time at all, but in actuality, it was bordering on 6 a.m. and everyone else who was at the apartment had long gone home. Hinata couldn’t help but feel a little stupid after all, that he was so scared of someone because he thought he knew them by being a fan, when in actual fact he didn’t know him at all.

“What percentage is your phone on?” Kageyama asked, watching as a small frown fell onto the ginger's lips when he looked at the screen. 

“20% apparently” Hinata lied, it was actually at 80% but he wanted to have an excuse to stay and talk to Kageyama more.

“You can charge it here overnight if you want.” Kageyama offered, Hinata looked on in mild surprise, “If you have an alarm set, I’ll make sure to wake you up in time tomorrow.”

“Really?” Kageyama nodded, “You’re the best Bakayama” Hinata must’ve been getting drunker by the second because he couldn’t sworn he saw Kageyama break out in a full blush at the compliment. Before they parted ways for the night, Hinata smiled “Goodnight”

Kageyama smiled back, “Goodnight Hinata.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things be movin quICK but i promise theres a reason ;)

The days that followed the night of drinking were pleasant…actually, a little more than pleasant. Kageyama did as he promised and woke Hinata up when his 3 p.m. alarm sounded, although seeing Kageyama so early in Hinata’s state of consciousness was a tad dangerous considering the size of his blabbermouth and the fact he was quite hungover and looked like he’d been hit by a bus. 

That Sunday Hinata stayed in with Kageyama, they made breakfast and ate it together in comfortable silence. A welcomed change from whatever awkward tension was there before. They also cleaned the night befores horrific mess up together, and Kageyama accidentally added dish soap into the mop bucket instead of bleach and ended up sudding up the entirety of the kitchen, which despite its impracticality was quite funny. They lounged about, watched documentaries, and chatted shit for the entire day, and honestly…it felt really nice. For both of them. 

Clearly the talk they’d had the night before had helped to iron out any tension between them. Even if it meant that Hinata now couldn’t help but wear clothes that emphasized the orangeness of his hair. Hinata thought about that a lot, the fact that Kageyama had been so awkward and hid away in his room because he found Hinata’s features attractive. It was incredibly flattering, and comforting considering Hinata had done more than his fair share of sexualizing his roommate. 

Hinata wasn’t as nervous being around Kageyama, he’d still startle every so often when he remembered they lived together, after living on his own for nearly 3 years, being with someone else was inherently startling for him. He could think now, at least, logically too. And he had been thinking quite a bit.

Hinata knew nothing of the Kageyama that came after Volleyball, and he figured just because he couldn’t mention the sport explicitly just encase it upset the other man, it didn’t mean Hinata couldn’t still ask questions.

“What do you do?” Hinata asked abruptly during their late-night downtime, both curled in separate blankets on separate sides of the sofa. 

Kageyama’s face as always was an unreadable mask, “I’m a pornstar,” He said, Hinata’s breathless choke rattled through the room, if he had a drink in hand he’d have probably broken the world record for liquid shot across a room, Kageyama smirked at the reaction “I’m kidding, don’t worry.” Why would Hinata worry? “I’m an editor.” 

Kageyama the editor, that just didn’t sound right, “What do you edit?” 

“Manuscripts, it’s mostly fiction work from aspiring writers. Occasionally I’ll be thrown the odd sports journal.” 

Hinata’s ears lit up at the sound of sports, “That sounds…cool” Hinata tried to compliment the man, but he only really understood the word sports out of that entire sentence. 

Kageyama eyed the ginger, in a way that was reminiscent of their drunken conversations—although the eyes weren’t friendly, they held personality, “You don’t have to lie, I know it’s boring.” 

Hinata chuckled lightly, squishing himself impossibly deeper into his weighted blanket, “What would you rather be doing then?” 

Kageyama’s broad shoulders slumped forward in his burrito blanket, the eyes that earlier held fragments of life quickly became empty and distant. Hinata had hit something, not a nerve but he’d…well, he’d done something bad. Kageyama just looked sad. Not the type of sad that’s in day to day life, like a sibling eating the last slice of cake, it was the type of sad that followed you wherever you went no matter what you did. 

After a few minutes’ past, it was clear Kageyama had no intention of answering Hinata’s question. He also seemed to have no intention of looking up from the floor, or of doing anything other than be wrapped in his blanket in silent contemplation. 

Apart of Hinata wanted to know what Kageyama was thinking about, but the other part was too scared to be given an answer. So, he did what he did best. He distracted. 

Hinata leaped up from his side of the sofa and slammed his side right into Kageyama’s, physically breaking whatever mental cage the man had locked himself in. The dark-haired man didn’t react dramatically, he turned his head to face the orange a small faded smile on his face.

“Can I help you?” Kageyama asked, cheekily pushing his shoulder into Hinata’s lighter frame, watching as the smaller man wabbled on the balls of his feet to stop himself from tipping forward and eating the floor beneath. 

Hinata shook his head, the black blanket around him making it seem impossibly brighter, “Nope, just felt like it.” 

Kageyama knew that despite Hinata’s nervous nature, he wasn’t an idiot. He’d saw him slip slightly, got worried, and was now trying in his own unconventional way to cheer him up. It was sweet, it made Kageyama feel fuzzy, warm and somewhat embarrassed as his heart thumped in his chest at the idea of Hinata worrying about him. 

“You just felt like what? Playing human bumper-cars?” Kageyama joked, trying to ignore the parts of his brain that wanted to not just stay snuggled next to Hinata but to snuggle with Hinata. 

“Oh that could be fun!—”

“No, absolutely not.” Kageyama cut down the man’s excitement immediately, resulting in a dramatic pout that was definitely teetering on being a danger to Kageyama’s health. 

It wasn’t as if Kageyama hadn’t noticed these things before, he had. It’s just that he hadn’t put much thought into it before, but since Hinata had so clearly proclaimed that he wanted to be friends it was difficult not to think about it. After all, when you have friends you have to be considerate of their feelings, you have to get to know them and understand what they like and don’t like, you have to remember the things they say. It was a lot of work and Kageyama had never really had proper friends before, other than Oikawa but that man was a maniac and he refused to believe every person on earth operated on the same principles that he did. 

Kageyama just wasn’t sure if wanting to cuddle your friend was ok, or if it was ok to get so heated up at the thought of them in a three-piece suit. 

Hinata tutted playfully and turned his attention back to the T.V “Do you exclusively watch David Attenborough Documentaries?” 

“Why? is he in a Sci-Fi film I’ve missed?” Kageyama buzzed at the sound of Hinata’s little laugh echoing through the apartment, “Would you rather watch something else?”

Hinata shook his head, “Not really, if you put a film on now I’d probably end up falling asleep.” 

Kageyama ignored the way he instantly wanted to put a film on and have Hinata fall asleep next to him, “Oh god, you’re one of those.”

Hinata immediately became defensive, but there was a very clear light-heartedness to his tone which showed he wasn’t truly bothered by the small dig, “It isn’t my fault every film takes ages to get into the actual interesting stuff.” 

“That’s called build-up idiot, it’s what makes the interesting stuff so interesting.” Kageyama’s inner editing goblin leaped out, although it wasn’t large and easily squashed by a compelling enough argument. 

“Clearly not if it makes me fall asleep.” Hinata’s argument was not compelling. 

“So, you’re telling me you’d rather just have the scenes where villains invade in every marvel movie and that’s it?” 

“Yes.” 

Kageyama groaned, head lolling off the back of the sofa in a state of absolute defeat.

Hinata was giddy, feeling purely wholesome until Kageyama gulped in that position, his Adams apple bobbing so deliciously that his gut instinct was to bite into the man’s soft throat and leave the entire thing purple. He didn’t however, thank god. 

Hinata barely believed Kageyama’s next argument, “You’d hate romance films.” 

He did hate romance films, but Kageyama didn’t need to know what just yet, “I would not.” 

Kageyama pulled himself back into his earlier position, pressed against Hinata’s smaller body with his eyes cast down intently watching the man’s reactions, “Yes you would. They’re the epitome of slow burns.”

“So?”

“So, you’d just want the characters to get together instantly with no plot building.” Kageyama pointed out, which was an incredibly accurate take on why Hinata hated romance films. 

“Well maybe they should just get together,” Hinata argued boldly, not backing down from Kageyama’s deep stare. Kageyama rolled his eyes, and Hinata couldn’t resist “Ha I win!” He exclaimed.

Dark eyebrows scrunched around confused eyes, “What?”

“Staring contest—” Before Hinata could even finish his sentence, Kageyama was groaning in annoyance, “You rolled your eyes, so you look away I win.” 

“That was not a consensual staring contest.” Kageyama complained, voice deep and strong despite the way his words were inherently whinnying. 

“You’re only saying that because I won.” 

“I’m saying it because you didn’t tell me we were in a staring contest. I’d beat your ass if it was the real deal.” Kageyama claimed. 

Hinata took him up on the offer, “Bet!” 

The two turned to face each other on the sofa, sat on their knees with their respective blankets draped over them. “Ready?” Hinata asked, Kageyama nodded, they both closed their eyes for the countdown, “1, 2, 3…go!” and then shot them open as soon as the g left Hinata’s mouth. 

Hinata was somewhat of a professional staring contest contestant, after all theres only so long you can go being friends with Bokuto before every little decision is down to either a coin toss, rock paper scissors or a staring contest. Plus, staring into Kageyama’s deep blue eyes was a dream, a modern-day blessing. He could probably stare at those things for hours without blinking. He resisted the urge to look down when he saw a smirk tug at the corners of his opponents’ mouth, awakening a small concession of butterflies to float around in Hinata’s stomach. Then, he shuffled lightly on his knees giving himself added height until he was practically towering over him. Hinata truly was lost in Kageyama’s eyes, so lost that he didn’t completely feel two large hands behind his head, thumbs circling his cheeks rhythmically and anchoring his head upward. Hinata’s eyes somehow grew wider when he realised, he wasn’t falling into those eyes, it was the eyes that were coming toward him. The small concession of butterflies suddenly became a blazing inferno in the pit of his stomach, he became a human volcano, his self-control being pushed closer and closer to the point of eruption. Hinata couldn’t catch the faint whine that flew out of his mouth, nor could he stop the way he shivered at the feeling of cool breath so close to his lips, or stop the way his eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation—

“I win” Kageyama’s deep voice vibrated, lips barely brushing before a large satisfied smirk pulled his lips taught. 

Hinata whined, loudly “Bakayama!” He shoved the mans broad chest away, must too flustered to do anything other than bury himself in his blanket with his head shielded from the trickster while he tried to calm down his rapidly hardening cock, because holy hell Hinata was turned on. A deep laugh bellowed from next to him, “That was mean.” He whined.

“Mean, but effective.” Kageyama shot back. His voice startlingly closer than he expected it to be, his entire body tensed, “Hinata” He cooed, “I’m sorry Hinata please come out.” Hinata did not come out, Hinata stayed put and thought about the most unattractive things he could until it was socially acceptable for him to come out, “I’ll let you hit me.” Kageyama offered, much like an older sibling would if they made a younger sibling cry and couldn’t have them telling their parents about it. 

“I don’t want to hit you.” Hinata huffed.

“Then I’ll let you do whatever you want.” That piqued Hinata’s interest, much more than it probably should’ve but at this point he didn’t really give a damn about the fact he lived with Kageyama, or about what Kageyama was hiding, or how little he knew him. 

You can’t throw a starved dog a bone and then snatch it back without repercussions. 

“Anything?” Hinata asked.

“Anything.”

Hinata slowly pulled himself out of his literal security blanket to face Kageyama, who was sat as open as he possibly could be with his hands in the air as if he was about to be arrested. Back pressed against the armrest of the sofa with an elbow resting on it, and his other arm hung loosely over the back of the plush sofa cushions he was supposed to be leaning against.

Hinata knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to edge the cheeky bastard until he was begging for release; but could he do that? Should Hinata do that? To be fair, Hinata had always hated films that didn’t get right to the point. 

Hinata, somewhat, hesitantly crawled himself into the mass of open space Kageyama had created for him, as if he knew exactly what his next move would be. That didn’t stop Kageyama from being surprised when Hinata actually took the incentive to straddle his lap. It didn’t stop Kageyama’s heart from hammering in his chest when Hinata wrapped his thin forearms around the back of his neck and started to absentmindedly play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Mesmerizing brown eyes boring into entranced blue ones.

“For your information, I do hate romance films.” 

Kageyama knew exactly what he was implying when he told Hinata that he could do anything to him. He’d also made it pretty clear he found the man attractive, complimented him and tried to be in the communal spaces during hours he thought Hinata might be around, despite his…other commitments. Yet, he never expected Hinata to go along with Kageyama’s rapid speed. In fact, Kageyama was almost afraid to touch the guy just encase this was a joke, encase it was revenge, encase Hinata didn’t to do anything to him other than sit on him and fiddle with his hair. 

Hinata leaned down slowly, so slowly that it made a large anxious knot form in Kageyama’s stomach, lips ghosting tentatively over Kageyama’s which were eagerly waiting for contact—begging for that little push of connection. So much so that Hinata could see it in his eyes, begging, wholly encouraging of Hinata giving into corruption and handing himself over to the raging blaze that needed to consume Kageyama in as many ways as he could as quickly as he could. 

Hinata hadn’t anticipated that Kageyama felt that desire as strongly as he did before that point, he gasped at the sudden feeling of a being yanked down by the front of his shirt, his shock instantly swallowed by an almost animalistic growl that made Hinata’s head spin. The soft hands playing in Kageyama’s hair became dull nails hell-bent on scalping as Hinata kissed back just as feverishly. The hands that were scared to touch were now tugging thick thighs and slim waist as close as they could until the two were chest to chest and devouring each other.

Hinata had never experienced a kiss so overpowering in his life, every single swirl of tongue, every opening and closing of plush lips, every slight movement Kageyama made had Hinata on the cusp of moaning like a sex-starved pornstar. He felt like he was on fire, like his brain was going to melt in his skull if he got any hotter. He could feel Kageyama’s large warm hands tracing lightly under his shirt leaving an aggressive spout of goosebumps and shivers in their wake. His own hands detached from Kageyama’s thick locks, instead choosing to explore the vastness of chest he’d been craving to touch for half his fucking life.

Kageyama tasted refreshing, like the ocean, every small pull apart seemed like a tide going out smoothly only to crash back in again and take control. To rock Hinata into a steady, suffocating rhythm that was so good it hurt, it was so good that Hinata had the desire to mess it up just to see if that was even possible because Kageyama was working him expertly kissing him the way he’d always craved. 

If Kageyama was a drug, then Hinata was on route to being the biggest crack whore the world had ever seen.

Hinata knew that he needed to stop soon if he didn’t want things to go any further. He wasn’t physically prepared for things to go further, but at the same time Kageyama was swallowing every single moan, stroking the sensitive areas of his hips that made his stomach coil, Hinata wanted things to go further, he was just hyper-aware that he shouldn’t let things get too heated. 

Suddenly, their little bubble was burst by the sound of a loud knock on their door. Hinata pulled away in an instant, wondering If a god had read his thoughts, but Kageyama was much more desperate, kissing along Hinata’s neck trying to pull him away from the real world again.

“Ignore it.” Kageyama’s voice was raw, against the delicate skin of the gingers neck, and he could feel the deliciously high whine that was stuck in Hinata’s throat against his lips. Hinata didn’t listen, he shifted as if he was about to get up, “Please, Hinata just ignore it.”

“What if it’s important?” Hinata theorised breathlessly, trying his best not to give into the sweet sucking and nipping of the man below him. Kageyama bit down on a particularly sensitive spot just under Hinata’s adams apple sucking and pulling a rounded moan out of the distracted man.

“It’s late, it won’t be—” Kageyama tried to convince, but like a sick joke he was cut off by another loud knock. Hinata shifted again, “Please—”

“I’m getting it.” Hinata declared, somehow managing to find the mental and physical strength to tare himself out of Kageyama’s desperate grip. 

Kageyama groaned in frustration, grabbing his blanket, and covering his half hard cock from whoever was at the door. 

Hinata swung the door open to a delivery guy who’d simply gotten lost and had the door numbers confused. It felt like Hinata was at the door for hours, trying to direct the confused person to the correct floor and room, explaining which lifts work and don’t work etc. By the time Hinata closed the door, the mood had shifted completely into something a lot more ambiguous. 

The air itself felt nervous. 

“I told you it wouldn’t be important.” Kageyama said. 

Hinata, realizing the time and the fact that he had a day of busy classes tomorrow, decided to call it a night, “I’m going to bed,” He declared, “Turn the T.V. off at the wall when your done.” 

“Wait Hinata.” Kageyama demanded, glad to see the carrot top listen and stop by the doorway of his bedroom, “Don’t overthink it,” He said, referencing the painfully obvious “I don’t regret anything.” 

Kageyama caught a flash of something akin to relief over Hinata’s face, before the shorter man hummed out a lazy, “Goodnight Kageyama.” 

“No kiss goodnight?” He joked, thankful when Hinata tried to lob the nearest pillow at him playfully.

Just like that, the tension in the air dissipated. 

“You’ve had enough, don’t you think?” Hinata replied.

Kageyama grinned, “I’ll have you know that goodnight kiss deprivation is a serious issue in today’s economy, I could die without one.” 

Hinata rolled his eyes as if he was annoyed but still made his way over “Then how have you lived this long?” 

“I was merely surviving.”

A genuinely amused smile spread its way across Hinata’s lips, “You’re ridiculous.” He leaned down and pressed a laughably innocent peck on the man’s abused mouth, “Better?” 

Kageyama nodded, “The best.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have a lil kags insight

Hinata was absolutely determined to get Kageyama out for Sophie’s breakfast. He’d set multiple alarms, he’d put his towels on the heated rack in the bathroom prepared, he even put his washed clothes in the dryer so they were warm for when he got out of the shower. He’d done everything he could, without physically dragging the man by his ankles out of his bed, to try and make sure they had a good chance at a free breakfast. But Kageyama was incredibly slow, so slow that it bordered on stalling. 

“Just get in the shower we’re gonna lose.” Hinata whined.

“Ok but, if we showered together, we’d save money—”

“I’m not showering with you!” 

“Do you not care about the environment?”

“I care about being able to shower in peace, Kageyama.” Hinata argued, a very compelling argument if he did say so himself. 

“Are you implying I’d try and distract you?” Kageyama gasped, dramatically clutching a hand over his heart, “Hinata, I’m—”

“You’re getting in the shower is what you're doing” Hinata ordered, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. 

Kageyama wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “I quite like this side of you Hinata.” 

Hinata practically forced his flattered blush to stay udder his skin, “Either get in the shower now or you buy breakfast for five people.” 

Kageyama just shrugged, “I can afford it.” 

Hinata was discovering new sides to Kageyama every day, especially since their little…altercation. One thing he’d figured out quickly was that Kageyama absolutely loved to rile him up, he loved to push every single button he could find all at once and then if he went too far he loved to kiss the metaphorical wound better. And oh boy, was he great at kissing things better.

He still vanished unexpectedly outside of his work hours, he’d still hide in his room sometimes for days at a time and then come out again as if nothing had happened.

He was an enigma, Hinata always wondered what Kageyama got up to when he wasn’t there because he was definitely doing something; whatever it was, he really didn’t want Hinata to know about it. Which gave the curious carrot top more than a couple of theories, considering they were both hiding information from each other. 

“Fine. Pay.” Hinata bit back, shoving his way into the bathroom and locking the door behind him, ignoring the flirty complaints from the man behind the door. 

The pair was so late for breakfast that the others had already left the apartment and gotten seated at a table in the breakfast place. Hinata spotted the table first, waving over with half a foot in the threshold when Kageyama zoomed past him, leaving him…last. 

“You did not just do that.” Hinata practically growled at the smug smile on Kageyama’s lips, both hands pushed in deep pockets and he playfully swung from his toes to his heels.

“So, what’s good to eat here?” Kageyama asked casually, making his way over to the table and sliding into the busy booth. 

Hinata shot Oikawa a look that could only be described as pure betrayal, but the man just laughed into his eggs. 

“Kageyama!” Bokuto greeted enthusiastically, “You finally got Hinata to break my streak.” 

“Streak?” Kageyama questioned. 

The overgrown owl nodded, “Yeah, this is the first time I haven’t lost in years.” 

“What are you ordering?” Iwaizumi’s smooth voice broke across the table, directed at Hinata who was currently slumped in the booth with his arms crossed. 

“I’m not hungry.”

Kageyama rolled his eyes in fake annoyance, he was after all incredibly amused “Don’t sulk, I’ll still pay.”

“You can’t buy out a years-long tradition, Bakayama” Hinata spat, the smell of everyone’s food making his mouth water but his pockets hurt. 

“Says who?” Kageyama argued, ignoring the googling and curious eyes of his other friend across the table. 

“Tradition.” 

“Traditions change Hinata, I’m changing it and I’m paying so shut the fuck up and order.” Hinata hated that the way he found Kageyama cussing him out arousing, far too arousing for a group breakfast, and what’s worse is how Kageyama could very clearly tell the effect he had on him. 

“You two seem to be getting along well.” Oikawa jumped in with a Cheshire cat-like smile on his face, head resting in his two hands as his eyes darted back and forth between the two of them.

“You call that getting along?” Iwaizumi chipped in confusion.

“Well,” Oikawa began, “they haven’t killed each other, so I’d say it’s been successful.”

“Yet,” Hinata added, “I haven’t killed him yet.” 

Kageyama leaned back in wonder, “So that’s what the rope and duct tape was for…unless—”

“You’re right, traditions are dumb you’re paying.” Hinata cut off Kageyama’s wandering, knowing full well where that man's perverted mind was going. 

Call Hinata crazy, he didn’t exactly want people to know that he’d started lightly messing around with his new roommate. Well, you could barely even call it that. They’d been physical one time, other than that it was just a lot of…implications. The situation wasn’t too complicated in reality, they were both attracted to each other and therefore X Y and Z, but it had the potential to turn sour, and until that potential was gone Hinata wanted nobody to know.

The five of them ate breakfast somewhat peacefully, Oikawa tried to give Bokuto advice on how to woo the hot waiter, but everyone agreed that was a terrible idea and that nobody should listen to Oikawa.

“Has your tutor given your group proposals yet, Hinata?” Iwaizumi asked. 

Hinata nodded, stuffing the vast majority of his sausage into his mouth and reveling in the way Kageyama tried to disguise his shocked choking at the scene, “I got severe ligament damage from knee to ankle.” 

Kageyama seemed to stop breathing for a moment, but it was so brief that Hinata paid it no mind, “That’s rough, just tell them to cut off the leg.” Iwaizumi joked.

“I’ve devised a program for it, but I doubt it’d work well enough to warrant an experiment.”

“Whats this?” Kageyama asked.

Iwaizumi filled him in, “Hinata and I are on the same course, our new modules are all about the rehabilitation of damaged limbs, Hinata’s actually pretty good at those papers too got an 87 last time.” 

Bokuto choked, “You got 87 on a paper?” Hinata, completely unphased simply nodded, “But I thought you were the stupid one.” 

Hinata tried to ignore the way that Kageyama seemed to slump again, the way his eyes became vacant and his breathing became shallow. Even though it hurt to ignore him when he was like this, when he was clearly struggling with something private, he couldn’t exactly do anything in private to soothe him. Instead, Hinata steered the conversation as far away from schoolwork as possible. 

“Kuroo asked if we wanted to drink at his the other day.” Hinata bought up, gaining everyone's attention instantly. 

The conversation drifted the way he planned, and he watched sneakily as Kageyama seemed to unwind again, digging into his food and guzzling the morning coffee.

With plates empty and some of the tension in Kageyama’s back distilled they left Sophies full and, somewhat, happy.

Hinata and Iwaizumi made their way to class. Bokuto managed to pull a small smile out of the hot waiter, and Oikawa was headed to practice.

Everyone had something to do, other than Kageyama. 

The man walked back to the apartment, mind racing and chest clenched tight as it often was. He was good at not thinking about it as much anymore, especially with a distraction as good as Hinata, but sometimes he couldn’t avoid it. 

He’d gotten better at not dwelling, although he still did that too. Sometimes he’d go through his old pictures and see how much happier he was back then, and it always made him realize just how…well, how sad he currently was. How every smile was somewhat fake, how every snarky comment and joke was a subtle deflection. How every time he overheard a conversation that reminded him of that time, he instantly had a bitter taste in his mouth that spoilt any chances he had of having a good day.

He got to the apartment, went straight for his room lied down, and tried to suppress the feeling. He tried to crush it down, but the more he did that the more it hurt. A dull ache over his entire body, it was as if he wasn’t even alive…he was just there, existing simply because he couldn’t stop existing at the click of a finger.

Kageyama got under his covers, the warmth making him feel marginally better, and let his eyes flutter closed. He’d done nothing, but the weight of his feelings left him exhausted. His brain showing him flashes of a better time, a time when he was happy, a time when he had passion and purpose. A time when he felt like himself. 

If he focused enough, he could hear the sound of sneakers on wood, of his hands on the ball and the bright lights above the stadium. He could hear the cheering, the rattling of the net, the ball on impact. 

He’d give anything to get that feeling back. He’d give anything to be that person again. He’d give anything to get that life back, his life back. 

Kageyama lied in bed the whole day, drifting in and out of sleep and rolling over a few times, he didn’t even move when Hinata came home from class. He could hear the boy calling out for him, he could hear him pulling his work clothes out of the dryer and scrambling around searching for him. Until eventually, Hinata just knocked on the door. 

“Kageyama? Are you home?” The man was incredibly tempted to stay silent, to pretend that he was out doing god knows what; but he couldn’t leave the small amount of worry in Hinata’s voice unchecked. 

“Yeah.” He replied flatly.

Hinata cautiously pushed the door open, the room was so dark that Hinata could barely even see the man’s head pocking out of the duvet. “Kageyama?” The concern in Hinata’s voice was thicker now and it sent a pang of guilt straight to Kageyama’s stomach.

“When do you get home from work?” He asked.

The bed dipped slightly, and Hinata slowly pulled the edges of the duvet away to reveal an absolute shadow of a person, he looked nothing like the person he’d had breakfast with earlier, his face was puffy, eyes red and the delicate skin under his eyes was clearly splotchy even in the darkness. 

Kageyama’s eyes were empty again, and this time it really did make Hinata feel physically ill with anxiety. 

He made his decision then and there. He stood up and kicked off his work shoes, fingers making quick work of the buttons of his vest and the most restricting buttons of his blouse before opening the duvet up and sliding in.

“What—”

“I’m not going to work when you’re like this.” Hinata left absolutely no room for arguments, he shuffled in close next to Kageyama whose eyes were completely blown out in amazement, “I don’t know whats going on, and you don’t have to tell me, but if I left you like this I’d feel awful.” 

Kageyama sighed. He wasn’t a cuddler, not by a long shot. Sure, every so often he’d want to hug someone for extended periods of time, but never fall asleep next to them. He never liked the feeling of falling asleep with someone on him or next to him. Yet, for Hinata his arms opened on their own to make room for the new body in his bed. He wrapped his arms around the man, tucking him deliciously under his chin so that he wouldn’t be able to see the way his eyes had glossed over slightly. 

Hinata didn’t know him well, and yet he was willing to stay with him no questions asked. He was…kind, a lot kinder than Kageyama thought he deserved.

“You can’t just decide not to go to work because of me.” Kageyama kept his voice from breaking, but Hinata could tell that it was thinner than usual—that Kageyama was holding things in. 

“Bet.” Hinata said, and Kageyama knew that there was no way in hell the little devil was budging on this. 

Kageyama didn’t want Hinata to see him like this, he didn’t want anyone to see him like this, because he knew it opened up avenues. It opened little alleys that all lead to the same thing, which was having to talk about it; Kageyama didn’t want to talk about it. He couldn’t talk about it, never had. Plus there was that fear of stupidity, that people wouldn’t understand and call his feelings childish—tell him that he needed to kick himself up before someone else showed him just how much pain it took to build character.

So instead of accepting his feelings, he teased “I wouldn’t have minded if you kept the suit on though.”

Hinata laughed, unknowingly lifting some of the heavy weight off of Kageyama’s chest and tilted his head up slightly to leave a sweet, wholesome kiss of the man’s jaw, that made his head feel fuzzy “You’re a pervert.” 

“And you reciprocate.” 

Hinata hummed, the vibrations doing nothing to soothe Kageyama’s battering heart, “You’ve got me there.” 

The two snuggled together, Hinata secure and safe in Kageyama’s strong arms. They were sinking into the duvet, being suffocated by their proximity; but even then they didn’t let go. It wasn’t long until Hinata was sound asleep, tiny breaths flowing out of his nose and mouth. 

Kageyama just watched him for a while, watched the small movement of his chest, and the occasional crinkling of his nose. He couldn’t help himself from stroking the unruly hair away from his face, noticing the tiny scar he had on his cheek and the barely-there freckle under his eye. 

Hinata was burnt out, exhausted. He was up by 8 a.m. every weekday, in classes until 5 p.m., and then even with his dropped hours he still went to work until 9 p.m. and he still volunteered at weekends to. On top of that, he made time to socialize, do his assignments, and cook. The man was an absolute machine. Hinata needed the rest just as much as Kageyama did. 

After Hinata caught Kageyama on a bad day, he’d always peek in his door before work. If he was having a good day or was particularly convincing, he went; if not, he stayed. He never asked questions, never judged the frequency of them either, or tried to give him passive-aggressive advice. 

He was just there for Kageyama whenever he needed him to be.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why can't i write smut without fluff omg smh

Hinata had been incredibly stressed as of late. The past two weeks he’d done nothing but go to class, work and then lock himself in his room for a couple of hours to start on assignments whose due dates were creeping closer. He’d been incredibly focused, so focused it was almost concerning. Whatever he was working on clearly meant a lot to him and Kageyama could respect that, but there was a line. A line between working hard and addiction. Hinata had become a workaholic, the entire two weeks Kageyama had seen him In flashes if he took the time to shower or use the bathroom, maybe cook a meal at 3 a.m. and then eat it in his room. 

It was an absurd lifestyle and it bothered Kageyama. Why? because it reminded him of himself. How he would work tirelessly every single day to reach his dream and look where that got him. It got him nowhere at all.

He didn’t want the same fate for Hinata.

He wanted to do something for him, something that would help take his mind off things even if it was just for a few hours. However, making plans was near impossible with the way the carrot top was jumping from A to B to C, the man just didn’t stop. On top of that, he’d also refused multiple social outings saying that he didn’t have the time, or that he needed to work. 

Luckily for Hinata, Kageyama was both incredibly versatile and stubborn.

He knocked on the man’s door, listening to the sound of manic rustling through the thin wood.

“Who is it?” Hinata squeaked.

“It’s Clefairy.” 

He could just about make out the sound of a laugh from the other side of the door before it swung open, Hinata was clad in navy blue running shorts and a thin white t-shirt which, in Kageyama’s eyes, was like serving a meal to a man that hadn’t eaten in months—mouth-watering. 

“You’re dumb.” Hinata said, sitting back on his warn office chair as soon as the door was open. 

His room was a mess, his laundry which was normally always neatly folded was piled high on the floor, there were sheets of crumpled paper surrounding the overflowing bin, there were plates with pizza crusts on the floor that’d been there for god knows how long, and his pin bored was a maze of highlighters, sticky notes and panicked annotations which were near impossible to read.

His room looked how Kageyama’s had before he’d pulled himself together a little bit, which again was vastly concerning.

“Says the one who asks whos at the door when they live with one person,” Kageyama bit back playfully, but Hinata was distracted by the bright light of his computer—which had a diabolical amount of tabs open, “Take a break.” Kageyama didn’t suggest, he was demanding that the man take a break. 

Hinata didn’t take his eyes off the screen when he replied, “Can’t, it’s due in three days and I’m way behind.” 

“There is no way you’re behind with the amount you’ve been working, you’re overthinking it.” 

“I’m not taking a break Kageyama.” Hinata sighed as if he was bored or as if he couldn’t even spare the energy to have a conversation. Kageyama didn’t want to say it out loud but he missed the ginger, he missed when they would talk on the sofa, or end up making out in the kitchen and burning something. Without warning he grabbed the armrest on the chair, spinning Hinata round to face him and stopping him with a strong grip on his thighs, “Kag—”

“I wasn’t asking you to take a break Hinata,” Kageyama could practically see Hinata’s skin-crawling, cheeks beginning to flush. Kageyama’s thumb ran smooth circles on Hinata’s inner thigh, his blood boiling when he felt the muscle beneath tense in anticipation, “You’re taking a break.” 

Kageyama dipped down quickly, swallowing whatever excuse Hinata was bound to make with a content sigh. Hinata was as always quick to reciprocate, kissing back in the same languid rhythm Kageyama had set. Although Kageyama wanted nothing more than to be filthy and rough with him, he held back. He wanted to relax Hinata, wanted to make him feel rejuvenated and positive after his break; Kageyama had no doubts Hinata would enjoy the aggressive and domineering side but he didn’t want to leave the man exhausted afterward. So, he kissed him slower, softer, deeper. He kissed him with care as if every single brushing of lips could harm him in some way. It was almost lazy, like a barely conscious make out of tired minds, and although Hinata appreciated the sentiment it wasn’t what he wanted at that moment.

Hinata’s lips began to move faster, needier, his tongue swirled teasingly in Kageyama’s warm mouth pulling out a string of lude sighs and groans from the man.

Kageyama pulled away slightly, noses brushing with lips tantalizingly close, “I was trying to be nice.” He breathed out, not able to take his eyes off the plump glossy lips under him.

“I don’t remember asking for nice.” Hinata shot back, stomach flipping as he watched a small smirk spread across Kageyama’s lips. He was dancing with the devil, he knew that; but Hinata wasn’t one for subtle distractions, if his mind was given even the slightest amount of time to think he’d be back in his work chair for another three days.

The next thing Hinata knew he was hoisted out of his chair and carried away from his room. He really didn’t think he could be any more attracted to Kageyama, but the way he carried him around the apartment and then threw him onto his plush bed, as if he weighed nothing at all, was insanely hot. Kageyama was on top of Hinata in the blink of an eye, kissing him so harshly that their teeth clanked but Hinata loved it, welcomed it. Opened his mouth impossibly wider to accompany the new all-consuming force that Kageyama had graced him with. Kageyama’s hands were everywhere, setting Hinata on fire as his heart thumped in his ears, he was brushing up his sides, his stomach, his chest everywhere. Until he settled, rubbing Hinata’s nipple far too slowly for the orange head to handle. 

Hinata suffocated a moan in his throat, much to Kageyama’s displeasure. The man pinched slightly on the sensitive bud, leaving Hinata’s lips to attack his neck—absolutely desperate to hear every single sound Hinata could make. But he was stubborn, kept swallowing moan after moan in a fit of irrational sexual embarrassment. 

Kageyama’s hands continued to wander, tracing small shapes and leaving dull scratches wherever he felt like it, which was pretty much everywhere until he eventually reached Hinata’s thin shorts. To say that Hinata was embarrassed when he instinctively thrust up into the contact would be an understatement, but Kageyama was more than thrilled with the reaction.

Kageyama’s hand was soft, stroking along Hinata’s rapidly hardening member agonizingly slowly milking little sighs and whines out of the man bellow him.

“Stop holding back,” Kageyama said, voice vibrating off the warm neck he was practically devouring, with a harsh bite and a squeeze on his member, Kageyama growled, “I wanna hear you.” 

Hinata couldn’t help but moan at that, rolling his neck back to give his devourer more access while he unconsciously rolled his hips upward into Kageyama’s palm. Everything about his body was open, begging for more friction, more contact. Never mind the fact Hinata hadn’t been touched by another person in years, the fact that Kageyama was touching him made his head whirl, his brain turned to mush and his only objective was to follow the intense feeling of pleasure he was receiving. 

So all in all, it was a brilliant distraction from work.

Kageyama’s long fingers circled Hinata’s now leaking head, feeling the wetness pooling in his short—Kageyama snickered, “You’re so sensitive.” Hinata whined at the praise. Kageyama grabbed the bottom of the carrot tops shirt and the latter instantly moved himself upward so that Kageyama could take it off swiftly, again Kageyama was amused, “So eager.” 

“Kag—yama—” Hinata’s chest heaved as the man started leaving large, sloppy open kisses down his neck and chest, stopping at his nipple to swirl it in his mouth, ”Y—ama” Hinata’s moans were desperate, not having enough breath to form a full word let alone a sentence but needing desperately to let the man know he was in pure fucking heaven. 

“Yama?” he looked up, hot breath hitting his sensitive bud with eyes hooded and filled with a possessive warning, that look was soon replaced with someone thing a little softer akin to affection “That’s a new one.” 

Kageyama continued his sensual assault, licking, nipping, kissing all the way down Hinata’s chest all the while slowly rubbing his throbbing cock with an annoyingly consistent hand. It wasn’t long until Kageyama was tugging down the man's shorts, leaving him bare naked in front of him and oh…oh god was it a scene. Hinata’s cheeks were on fire, his arm came up to block his eyes in embarrassment but Jesus fucking Christ Kageyama could’ve bust right then and there. The man was perfect, his waist was thin, delicate and his cock was pretty and pink and glistening with pre-come that was leaking down into thick glorious thighs that Kageyama couldn’t wait to have wrapped around his head.

Hinata was a piece of art, and Kageyama wanted nothing more than to display him for the world to see. 

Yet, it was clear Hinata didn’t feel the same. 

The very thought of Hinata not realizing how ridiculously fucking stunning he was made Kageyama’s stomach drop, made his blood boil with anger because how dare he not be told every day how beautiful he is. It was a crime! And Kageyama was suddenly a sucker for justice. 

“Hinata,” Kageyama’s voice was slow and soothing as he crept closer, his hands wrapping around the arm hiding Hinata’s flushing face. He met brown eyes for a split second before they looked away, “Hinata you—” Was it weird to call your friend, well kind of friend, beautiful? Kageyama didn’t care either way, “you’re so beautiful,” Hinata let the defensive arm slip away, and the dark-haired man instantly began leaving sloppy, warm kissing on his cheeks, “the prettiest,” he could feel the carrot stop smiling, his cheeks pulling tight and plump, “the cutest—”

“Stop it” Hinata complained half-heartedly, smiling wide as his heart swelled in his chest at the compliments. 

Kageyama continued his soft attack for quite a while, rejoicing in the sound of the gingers wholesome giggle, glad that he was allowed to hear that sound. He was even more glad to hear the lude moan Hinata sighed out when Kageyama started to lightly stroke the man's slick hard on. 

When Kageyama grabbed Hinata’s thighs and yanked him to the end of the bed, dropping heavily to his knees in front of him, Hinata all but fell apart. Kageyama started a trail of soft kisses on the man’s inner thighs, slowly working his way up until he was faced with his meal of choice. 

“Yama,” Hinata’s voice was much lower than Kageyama had expected it to be, the bass of it shot a delicious shiver all throughout the taller man’s body, “You don’t have to—” 

“I want to,” the feeling of Kageyama’s hot breath made Hinata’s cock jump in anticipation, “I wanna make you feel good—” Kageyama’s tongue darted out, swirling expertly around Hinata’s head and tasting the saltiness of him, Kageyama had never been one to enjoy the taste but, as with many other things, he made exceptions for Hinata. Slowly, Kageyama took more of him into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he started to bob back and forth on the throbbing member. 

“Fu—uhcking hell—” Hinata groaned, Kageyama looked up just in time to see the man throw his head back, sweat illuminating his neck making him glow. Kageyama wanted to focus on Hinata, he truly did—but fucking hell was he hard. He was so hard it was painful, he thought if he even though about removing his jeans he’d explode in an instant.

The things he’d do to Hinata, god. Make him suck him, edge him until he was begging, fuck into him until he was crying. Don’t even get Kageyama started on the little riding fantasy his brain had been cooking up at 2 a.m. to have Hinata looking down on him, riding him hard and fast screaming when Kageyama suddenly thrust up into him--

He took Hinata deeper, and deeper, tongue continuing to swirl even as his head was bobbing until his nose hit the man’s stomach. The feeling of little hands in his hair only spurred him on, he sucked harder, faster, until he could feel Hinata in the back of his throat—until Kageyama had no choice but to gag on the delicious intrusion. 

Hinata’s spine had long given out, he laid flat on the bed with his hands fisting the sheets of Kageyama’s bed—the feeling in his stomach growing painful as he tried not to cum embarrassingly fast. Kageyama wasn’t just sucking his dick, no he was eating it. He was so far down that man's throat he wondered if it was even possible, Kageyama was a fucking godsend. An angel and a devil wrapped in one awe-inspiring package, which for some reason was hellbent on making Hinata both cry from dangerous emotional attachment and cum from his fucking hoover styled mouth. 

Hinata screamed when he felt a slick finger enter him, his hips bucking off the bed instantly sending his cock straight down Kageyama’s throat, “Oh my god—fuck—Kag—ah” It was too much, he was wrapped on one end and being slowly worked open on the other, he was overstimulated, he couldn’t hold it. Kageyama was quick to add another finger, long and thick and curling into him with such precision it was unbearable; Hinata had gripped so hard into the sheets that he’d ripped them off of the corners of the mattress, leaving him with no anchor at the complete mercy of Kageyama Tobio. 

It wasn’t long before Hinata was riding Kageyama’s fingers, meeting every little thrust the man sent his way. Kageyama pulled off of Hinata’s cock with a lude popping sound, his lungs heaving for oxygen, “you’re so fucking good—” Kageyama praised, leaving messy kisses on the man’s sensitive thighs, he glanced up and saw the pure desperation on Hinata’s face—he smirked, “Do you want to cum?” He nodded furiously, eyes glassed over and begging, “do you want to come down my throat? Or on my fingers?” Hinata’s eyes bulged, head lulling back as he pushed himself further down onto Kageyama’s fingers, he knew what Hinata wanted but…he wanted to hear him say it, “you have to tell me, or I won’t know which one you want.” 

“fingers, please—please” Hinata choked out, he was wrecked, and it looked beautiful on him. Kageyama instantly added a third, scissoring the man open lightly before plowing into him deeply earning a rough scream. His pace was fast, and he could feel the vibrations of the man’s thighs quaking around his head. 

Hinata was so close, so ridiculously close—he just needed a little shove, Kageyama smirked as the idea popped into his head, standing off his knees and looming over the quaking body beneath his jabbing Hinata’s prostate repeatedly in the process, “next time you cum,” Kageyama whispered, lips brushing the man’s burning ears, “you’ll do it riding me, Shouyou.” 

Just like that, Hinata came hard and fast, cock untouched, vision blurry and chest heaving as if he’d just lived through a full out-of-body experience. 

Hinata could hear Kageyama’s soft voice faintly, “are you ok Shouyou?” 

“Shouyou,” Hinata repeated quietly, unsure of whether or not he’d actually heard his given name or if he’d died and gone to heaven.

Kageyama’s deep laugh sent ripples throughout Hinata’s skin, the next thing he knew he was being gently whipped down, cleaned up. Kageyama pulled the corners of his sheet back over the mattress quickly, “Let's sleep yeah Shouyou?” 

When the ginger nodded, Kageyama scooped him into his arms like a baby and scooted himself onto the bed and under the warm covers, tucking Hinata up in a combination of a cuddle and a blanket burrito. 

“Tobio,” Hinata’s brain activity was non-existent, he was practically muttering in his sleep at this point, but it didn’t stop his meaningless words having a strong impact on Kageyama, “My Tobio.” 

Kageyama’s chest exploded at that moment, so many different things were happening to his heart that had never happened with another person before, but…he liked it. He liked how warm he felt, and giddy and…wanted, he felt wanted.

He hummed back, tugging the man closer and leaving a soft kiss on his hot temple, “your Tobio.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ayo! long time no see I'm sorry!! I had assignments due :(  
> I also got paraletically drunk on Halloween slskskssk I salvaged what I could of my drunk ramblings and I present you with this!  
> sorry issa little shorter than noraml, theres just a lot of info in it I didn't wanna fry yall brains :D

Hinata woke up sweaty, pressed up against a boiling body with a thick duvet concealing him from the outside world. When he first opened his eyes, he was greeted by one magnificent sight, Tobio Kageyama’s bare chest—toned abs and all for his eyes only. The carrot top was convinced that there was no better way to wake up, that nothing would ever beat waking up wrapped protectively in strong arms with a cheek pressed to solid muscle, no matter how sweaty and gross his skin felt. He could have stayed like that for eternity, listening to the man’s soft snores and feeling his chest rise and fall; but one sharp realization yanked him away from that ulterior reality.

Time was still a concept that existed.

Hinata pulled the covers off himself and dragged his body out of Kageyama’s heavy grip to check the time on the man’s digital clock.

“Shit,” Hinata cursed, scrambling out of the warm bed clumsily.

“Shouyou?” the deep, innocent vibrato sent a pang of guilt straight to the carrot stops stomach, but he didn’t stop as he hastily pulled his clothes back on, “What are you doing?” The dark-haired man was sat up now leaning on his elbows, eyes bloodshot and tired but mostly confused. 

“I have a meeting today, I overslept,” Hinata said, checking the clock in the bedroom one last time. It took thirty minutes to get to his destination on the train, if he left immediately, he could still get there on time. Hinata couldn’t bear to look at Kageyama because he knew that if he did, he’d want to stay, especially if he kept calling him by his given name “I’ll be back for lunch.” 

“It’s lunchtime now, dumbass. “

“Well…” Hinata bolted into his bedroom, grabbed his phone and bag, and laced his shoes impossibly fast, when he was by the front door he yelled out, “Dinner then!” 

Hinata had never in his life left in such a hurry before, but he couldn’t risk missing the opportunity in front of him. He knew that he could reach the hospital on time if the train was on time, but just to make sure he covered all grounds, he called up a special someone to give them fair warning. 

The phone rang a total of six times before he picked up, “What do you want Hinata.” Tsukkishima grumbled.

“I’m on my way now, I just wanted to let you know!” 

The man on the other end was clearly on the move, probably to somewhere more private so he could speak freely, “I hope you know how fucking creepy this is, and also very much against work policy for me.” 

“I know I know, I’m sorry I know you’re in a tough spot—”

“A tough spot? Hinata I could be fired—”

“I know! I’m sorry, but it’s a really important assignment and I needed evidence.” Hinata’s eyes bulged when he saw that the train was already in, he picked up the pace and practically leaped from the platform on board. Luckily, the carriage wasn’t full, his over-eagerness was only witnessed by a few high schoolers.

Tsukkishima sighed heavily, it was obvious how stressed the blonde was about the situation he’d been put it, but it’s not like Hinata had much of a choice “Do you at least have the permission slip from your university?” 

“Yep! It’s signed and everything.” 

“That’s something at least.” He paused, “I’m on the Orthopaedics ward, floor 2, I’ll meet you by the front desk.” Tsukkisishima said quickly before ending the call. 

To say Hinata was buzzing would be an understatement, the man felt borderline electric. Tsukkishima was Hinata’s mother's doctor, he specialized in physical therapy for muscle wastage and some other conditions Hinata didn’t know too much about; Hinata’s mother was left with quite a nasty tear in her calf after a snowboarding incident, and for a while, everyone thought she’d never be able to walk the same again…until she started seeing Tsukkishima, the man worked magic on his mother’s leg injury and after a few years of intense rehabilitation she was now completely fine. It was as if the incident had never happened. 

Hinata knew first hand how great of a muscle specialist Tsukkishima was, he planned on using the doctor as a line of research for his project, to get professional opinions on whether or not some injuries could be helped or not. However, during that conversation, Tsukkishima began to list off some of his most difficult cases, and the name that left his mouth nearly made Hinata break down on the spot. 

Kageyama Tobio. 

Hinata couldn’t think for the next couple of days as the dots started to connect in his mind. Why else would Kageyama, A player destined to be on the Olympic volleyball team, a player who truly loved the sport suddenly disappear? Why did Kageyama have a limp? Why was Hinata told not to mention Volleyball? Why was Kageyama sometimes struck by such heart-wrenching sadness at the most random of times? 

Kageyama had an injury, Kageyama probably wasn’t fully recovered either which is why he didn’t go back to playing Volleyball. Kageyama was…he was miserable because he couldn’t play, and nothing hurt Hinata more than seeing the man’s face all splotchy from a night of crying because Hinata couldn’t help him. 

Unless he could, of course. 

Hinata was at the hospital in no time, making his way to the elevator and seeing the tall, blonde doctor looking incredibly unamused with a clipboard in hand. 

“Permission slip,” The man said, extending his hand with a mild scowl. Hinata was lightning fast in giving the man the document, Tsukkishima read through it quickly, his eyes darting from top to bottom, “We can talk in my office.” He sighed, smashing the button of the elevator and slunk into it.

When the two exited the elevator Tsukkishima spoke again, “Do you have the other permission slip?” he asked, pushing the door to his private office open. It was everything a good doctor's office was, clean and well organized, with bookshelves full of folders and medical books.

“Huh?” 

“The permission of the patient? Do you have their signature Hinata?” It was clear to see that the blonde man was getting impatient, then again he always did have a short temper.

“Oh! Of course.” Did Hinata really get Kageyama’s permission for any of this? no, did Kaeyama even know what Hinata’s assignment had effectively become a thesis on how to rehabilitate Kageyama? No, but had Hinata watched the man sign documents before? Yes, had he been practicing Kageyama’s signature so he could forge it for this specific moment? Yes.

Tsukkishima looked over the signature with a skeptical eye, but if he knew the signature wasn’t authentic he didn’t act on it. Instead, he pocketed the note and proceeded to rummage through his expansive folder collection.

The folder which the doctor pulled out wasn’t exactly what Hinata had expected, “That’s uh…thin.” He said dumbly, walking around and standing behind Tsukkishima who had opted to sit in his desk chair and open the contents. 

“He didn’t have many injuries at all, a few sprains in the early days but nothing a support sock and a few days rest wouldn’t fix.” He paused, pulling out various medical prescriptions to help with short term pain, a few follow up documents, and then suddenly… a plethora of MRI scans, “Kageyama wasn’t one to follow those rest day instructions, though.” 

Hinata’s mind was buzzing as he scanned over the documents, “That—” Hinata’s voice seemed to freeze in his throat when he noticed his hands were shaking, “That’s an Anterior Cruciate Ligament Injury.” 

Tsukkishima scoffed, “You don’t have to say the whole thing, ACL is fine…but yeah, it is.” He pulled out yet another sheet of paper, this time it was a transcript “When the ambulance was called, his teammate that reported it said he heard a loud pop, but because Kageyama was still standing he assumed it was someone in the audience. It was only when the game was over and most of the audience had left that he collapsed.”

“Holy shit,” Hinata was speechless, ACL tears are horrifically painful from what he’d learned during his second-year module. How the hell Kageyama managed to not only stop himself from collapsing but continue to play? To set? On a severe ACL tear…it was, it was borderline inhuman. If anything, it showed just how much Volleyball meant to Kageyama, how desperate he was to keep playing. He probably knew the moment he heard the sound he was done for, and the idea of that nearly shattered Hinata's composure. that situation sounded like hell on earth.

“There,” The doctor pointed to an X-ray of a healthy knee “the three bones meet to form your knee joint: your thighbone,

“The femur!” Hinata said enthusiastically, earning a slightly surprised nod. 

“The shinbone—"

“That’s the tibia” 

“And kneecap--"

“Pat—”

“The patella! If you’d let me finish,” Tsukkishima complained, Hinata apologized awkwardly, slamming his hands over his overexcited mouth, “The bones are connected to other bones by four primary ligaments in your knee. They kinda act like strong ropes to hold the bones together and keep your knee stable.” Hinata nodded along, he already knew all of this stuff but it was cool to have a real doctor speak to him about it. “The Ligament that Kageyama tore was the Cruciate, which controls the back and forth motion of your knee, inside of his knee joint. Kageyama has a Grade 3 Sprain.” 

“A grade 3?” Hinata’s mood dropped instantly. Grade 3’s are often referred to as complete tears in the ligament, they’re…well, problematic to put it nicely. “Did Kageyama get the surgery? Surely the doctors would have suggested it for a young athlete to return to the sport.” 

Tsukkishima nodded, “He did, even afterward we continued with some nonsurgical treatments to ensure that the knee would heal fully but…well, I think having somebody tell you that you have an incurable injury is…difficult to take.” 

Hinata’s heart sank for the man, it was clear how incredibly important Volleyball was to Kageyama…having to be the person to tell him that he couldn’t play must’ve been horrific.

“He could play now though right?” Hinata asked, a hopefully gleam in his eyes, “It’s been years, surely it’s healed enough now.” 

Tsukkishima simply shrugged, “I don’t know. He stopped coming for therapy and check-ups a few months after surgery—”

“He what!” 

Hinata was going to murder that man when he got home. 

“We gave him a brace and a physical therapy routine, but he didn’t show up for the therapy and he wouldn’t answer any calls from us. If somebody doesn’t want your help, it’s incredibly hard to give it; and Kageyama was as stubborn and high stung as all hell, I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t see him play again.” 

Terror was the only emotion strong enough for Hinata to distinguish, he was terrified not for his sake but for Kageyama. He’d finally unlocked everything; he finally solved the mystery in a way that was so simple and straight forward it barely seemed real. It felt like the calm before the storm, and it was going to be one hell of a fucking storm. 

“Thank you for everything,” Hinata bowed as he began scrambling the papers back into the folder, “I’ll be sure to take good care of these,” He said, lifting the beige folder in front of his face.

“They’re copies Hinata, you seriously thought I’d let you have the original documents?” Tsukkishima scoffed but placed his large hand on top of Hinata’s messy bright hair and scuffed it up to new heights, making the carrot top feel incredibly dizzy, “Goodluck with your assignment.” 

“Yeah! Thank you” was the only thing Hinata could choke out because lord knows he was going to need all the luck he could get.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at it again with another chapter :)  
> the uploads for this might be little spars im sorry, 3rd year do be stressful.

The weekday mornings were always dull for Kageyama. He’d wake up to an empty house most days, sometimes if he was lucky he’d be awake in time to hear Hinata knocking on his bedroom door letting him know he was leaving for class, he liked being able to wake himself up slowly—to lull the stiffness from his muscles and knowing he didn’t have to leave the comfort of his bed until he was a hundred percent ready to. He enjoyed the peace and quiet…but there was always a point during the day where he found himself missing the carrot tops company.

Usually, by the time he’d showered, changed, and made himself a pitiful excuse of breakfast, he craved Hinata’s company. He’d wish it were the weekend where they’d get ready together and do something, whether it was sexual or not didn’t matter. He liked stocking up the fridge with Hinata, liked wandering around town and impulsively buying junk, he liked washing his dishes after he ate so that he could find something to watch that wasn’t a David Attenborough documentary.

The thought had occurred to him in waves, some of which were soft and slowly poured into him while others were full-on crashes that had him thinking he’d drown. He liked a lot of things about Hinata, he liked so many things about him that it wasn’t unfair to say that Kageyama just…liked Hinata. It was painfully obvious once he’d finally decided to stop shoving the idea down and think about everything in an objective way. Hinata made Kageyama feel fuzzy and warm, and although it wasn’t a completely foreign feeling, he hadn’t felt it in a long time. It was comfortable, safe and he yearned for it. To see Hinata smile so wide that his eyes disappeared, to make him laugh so much that he coiled over and hyperventilated, to have him snuggled under his chin and listen to his soft snores. He wanted to take Hinata to his favorite places, he wanted to share not only himself with Hinata but his life, not the past but definitely the present and future. 

Kageyama was about to leave for his daily stroll around the park, bag of stale bread in hand so he could feed the ducks when the bright orange flicker caught his eye. Hinata had left his candle burning on his desk yet again. Kageyama made his way over, gut-twisting uncomfortably as he thought about how Hinata might react to having his personal space invaded. Ever since he’d started his assignment Hinata had become akin to Cerberus. He always kept his door locked unless he was inside it, so he must’ve really been in a rush this morning because the door was not only unlocked but cracked open.

Kageyama swallowed his dread and pushed the light wooden door, making his way to the flickering candle, the flame lapped at the air and danced erratically above a pool of melted wax which smelt strongly of honey and chocolate. It was pleasant for sure, but not entirely what Kageyama expected when he thought of what Hinata smelt like. He was more of a fresh summer breeze type of guy. Kageyama blew the candle out in one strong puff, rattling the assortment of papers underneath it. 

“Jesus, it’s a miracle the house didn’t burn down,” Kageyama muttered to himself. What type of idiot leaves a lit candle on sheets of paper? Kageyama was turning to leave when one particular document caught his eye, in a bold font read the familiar abbreviation “ACL?” Kageyama could feel his knee ache just from saying the words aloud. It was insane how one word could invoke so many emotions, so many painful memories…Kageyama’s heart was thumping in his chest, a mixture of fear and adrenaline as his mind brought forward memories he hadn’t acknowledged in years. The anxiety of fans seeing him as anything other than a Volleyball machine, the throbbing pain that left him unable to walk, the sound that rang through every single one of his nightmares. 

\-----------------------

“This seems pretty excessive if you ask me,” Sugawara, a man in Hinata’s group project, said as he looked over the plan for Hinata’s assignment, “it’s certainly well researched.” Sugawara was someone Hinata respected highly, not only was he smart as all hell, but he was level-headed and could always offer a fresh perspective on assignment plans or theories if you asked him. In other words, Sugawara was an academic angel.

“Do you think it’ll do well?” Hinata’s eyes bulged, a tight smile on his face as he nervously twiddled his thumbs. He hadn’t told Sugawara who his project was on, specifically, but he’d written up a mini-report on the ligament damage, the surgery, and therapy etc. All the boring technical stuff. 

Sugawara smiled sweetly, as always, “Hinata, you always do well relax a little.” The elder scuffed the ginger hair affectionately, “It’s a good assignment plan, you’ve got everything you need to ace this.” 

“Really?” 

“I’m starting to think you only asked me to validate your ego,” Sugawara chuckled, Hinata didn’t deny it…it was partly true after all, “Wanna grab a bite at the café?” He asked.

Hinata couldn’t nod fast enough, “God please, I’m starving.” Just as he’d agreed his phone dinged in his pocket, while he shoved his papers back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, he took the time to check the message he’d been sent “Uh…on second thoughts I’ll pass,” Hinata said, Sugawara turned back an eyebrow raised curiously as he pulled his own bag over his shoulder, “My flatmate found leftovers in the fridge so I’ll just eat at home, save on those food bills.” 

Sugawara’s curiosity didn’t cease, “What’s the deal with you and your flatmate now? You never used to mention him before and now he’s all you ever talk about.” Hinata couldn’t help but flush red at the acknowledgment, he knew he’d been talking about Kageyama a fair bit to Oikawa and Iwaizumi but he hadn’t realized that the dark-haired man had managed to seep his way into his daily conversations with classmates as well, “When did he even get back from Brazil? I thought that was a permanent venture.” 

“O—ooH yeah! Uh—” Hinata’s breath caught in his throat for a few seconds while his brain whirled, trying to think up a believable justification. He’d forgotten that Kageyama staying with him, in place of Nishinoya, was somewhat illegal. He’d also forgotten that only his closest friends knew of the arrangement, of course, Sugawara would assume he was talking about Nishinoya—he had no reason to think otherwise after all, “We bonded quite a bit once he’d gotten back, he uh…had quite the adventure.”

Hinata relaxed once Sugawara hummed in understanding, “He has a lot of cool stories, I bet.” 

The two walked out of the class and building block together, Sugawara acted almost like a parental shield for Hinata that kept him from bumping into the taller, mean-looking students he wasn’t familiar with, “Yeah tones!” Hinata came to a stop at the exit of the building, waving Sugawara goodbye as he proceeded to another class in the same building, “I’ll see you later Sugawara! Thanks for the help.” He yelled. 

The grey-haired elder smiled brightly in response and waved back but said nothing. Although Hinata liked to hang out with his classmates in his free time, after all, his classmates were fun, and he was comfortable joking around with them, talking about life and listening to them chat shit; but he much preferred hanging out with Kageyama. That man was on another level of comfort in Hinata’s brain. They didn’t have to fill silence with small talk since they always found something to talk about, and Hinata would be lying if he said that Kageyama’s flirtatious teases didn’t make him incredibly giddy.

The ginger was almost back to the dorms when the familiar, navy blue tracksuit piqued his interest, “What are you doing outside Bakayama?” Hinata smiled brightly, eyeing the full plastic bag he was holding in large hands.

The dark-haired man took the last few steps toward Hinata, there were small hints of a smile playing on his lips but he huffed them away, “Picnic, duh.” He said, lifting the plastic bag so it obscured Hinata’s vision. 

“Oh! A picnic date—”

“Not a date.” Kageyama swallowed, the last thing he needed was to get all nervous and lose his appetite, and the thought of going on actual, official dates with Hinata made him incredibly nervous. 

“Sounds a lot like a date to me.” Hinata pushed, enjoying the warm fuzziness that surged through his chest as he watched Kageyama’s tan cheeks tint pink. 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No."

“Yes.”

The two bickered light-heartedly all the way to the local park. It was warm out, but there was a slight chill to the air that refreshed the senses. The trees shook subtly, every so often dropping an orange leaf or two. It really should’ve been a lot colder than it was, but climate change was doing a great job of keeping the soil toasty…unfortunately. 

Kageyama’s legs moved on muscle memory as he led the way toward his usual spot near the bushes, it was away from the main path and shaded by a large tree with thick protruding roots that created a type of natural bench. Kageyama wasn’t listening to Hinata’s bubbly rambling, his mind kept skipping back like a horribly edited jump cut—back to the documents in Hinata’s room. It wasn’t like there was anything inherently suspicious about Hinata studying ACLs, he was studying sports therapy for crying out loud, of course he’d be covering leg injuries and such. It just…it hit close to home, and Kageyama had a heavyweight of paranoia pushing on his chest.

What if Hinata knew about his injury? About the past he’d tried so desperately to hide. Hinata was physically fit, sure, but he clearly wasn’t Volleyball fit. But then again, he was friends with Oikawa, he must’ve encountered the sport at some point in time. Kageyama’s breath started to shallow in panic, his steps becoming uncharacteristically stiff just as they were after his surgery. 

“Kageyama?” Concern rang in the carrot tops voice next to him.

What would he do if he did know? Was he prying? Researching? No, Hinata wouldn’t do that. He was kind, considerate—he could tell when the dark-haired man was having a rough time. Hinata would never…he wouldn’t do something like that, wouldn’t bring up the past and use it against him.

“Kageyama?” 

The man in question shook those sickening thoughts away, “Sorry,” He mumbled, “I was just uh—thinking bout where to put the blanket.” 

“You didn’t bring a blanket, Kageyama.” 

“Right! I knew it, I knew I’d forgotten something,” He laughed nervously, avoiding the orange’s concerned gaze as he practically threw himself into the patch of grass, “Let's eat!” 

Hinata didn’t know about his past, and even if he did Kageyama trusted that Hinata wouldn’t pry. It was a simple coincidence…that’s all It was.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> writing this gave me depression

Sometimes good people do bad things, not because they’re bad people but because they’re stupid; and Hinata was a fucking moron. 

Kageyama was on a wild one, he kept burning food, dropping drinks, he locked himself in the bathroom and took hour-long showers, and he’d zone out of conversation before conversation had even started. It was unsettling, his mind was somewhere else, and at first Hinata overlooked it, assumed he was having another bad day, but when Kageyama showed no interest in Hinata’s comfort he decided to leave him to his own devices; but the bad day soon became two, and then three and before he knew it’d been a whole week since Kageyama had held steady eye contact with him for more than five seconds. 

It was driving Hinata insane. 

“Are you ill?” Hinata asked on a whim during their evening downtime, Kageyama was curled up in his separate fluffy blanket at the end of the sofa, not pressed up against Hinata and fighting for the warmth of one blanket like he typically did, the dark-haired man continued to stare off into space as if he hadn’t heard Hinata at all, “Kageyama!” 

The man in question jumped at the sudden loud sound, turning his head to look in the direction of his roommate, “What?” He said, tone flat and jaded. 

Hinata sighed as he watched the man slump into his blanket, his chin completely covered and resting on his pulled-up knees, “I asked if you were sick.”

“I’m not sick.” Kageyama said.

“Then what’s wrong?” Hinata had never directly asked Kageyama if something was bothering him, which might sound a little rude, but that was only because Kageyama always seemed to have whatever negative thoughts he was having under a certain level of control. Hinata figured that if Kageyama was really struggling, like really badly, he’d tell him. He never expected he’d have to pry whatever was upsetting him out of his mouth like a dog who’d stolen a block of butter. The man stiffened slightly, his shoulders hunching like they always did when he was under some kind of stress, “Please Kageyama, I want to help.” Hinata practically begged. 

Silence fell between them, not the usual comfortable silence…it was eerie, the only sign Hinata had that Kageyama’s body hadn’t just given up on him was his ragged breaths. Then, he sighed, his legs stretching out so he was in a more open sitting position, “I’m not sick I’m just—It’s stupid I’m just…being weird, I guess.” When Kageyama looked up, he locked onto Hinata’s unwavering and completely unconvinced gaze, “I was just thinking about…like, how do you know Oikawa?” 

The question seemed completely irrelevant and out of the blue in Hinata’s eyes, but he answered it truthfully regardless, “We went to high school together,” Hinata paused, he knew he’d told Oikawa he wouldn’t mention Volleyball to Kageyama but…if he didn’t mention it then maybe Kageyama would catch him lying after all the two did play together for quite a bit… and Hinata watched all of those games. “Technically we met at a Volleyball match though, I was just watching them play after school and someone he set to spiked a ball out of the court and it got me right in the face—nearly broke my nose.” Hinata chuckled fondly at the memory, he could still hear Oikawa’s horrified scream about twelve octaves higher than his voice usually was as he practically smothered him with an ice pack. 

Hinata watched Kageyama’s face closely, but there was no reaction. He didn’t scowl, smile, twitch, he didn’t even blink, “Did you ever play with him?” 

Hinata’s mouth went dry, “No, I’ve never played.” 

“Never?” 

“Never,” Hinata’s mind was racing, but his mouth still managed to move before the brain singles told him to shut up, “I went to most of his matches, he’d always whine like a spoilt baby if I didn’t go and support him with signs and whatnot, I always had fun watching him play.”

Kageyama tucked one knee up to his chest again, clutching the blanket around him “But didn’t you ever want to play?” 

Believe it or not Hinata had his own issues with Volleyball, all be it not as traumatic as Kageyama’s, “Well, I—” Hinata took one look into those glossy blueberry eyes and he was unable to do anything but tell him exactly how it was, “I was kinda scared to.” Kageyama’s head lifted in interest, “It was always so fun to watch that…I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want to ruin the image I had of it in my head you know? Like what if I played it and I wasn’t good at it? Or what if I played it and I hated it? I’d have ruined something I really enjoyed,” Hinata could vividly remember that feeling of fear and anxiety, watching his favorites play, watching Tobio play and wishing he was on the court with him, but every time he stepped onto the court he froze—the net towered over him like an impenetrable wall he wouldn’t in a million years be able to climb. “I figured that some dreams are just that, dreams.” 

Kageyama’s reply was cold, and it stabbed through Hinata like a frozen blade, “That’s…unfortunate.” 

“I don’t see how all this links to you being upset though.” Hinata lied. God, he could see it in Kageyama’s eyes. The passion for Volleyball, the ich to play, being so completely in love with something so cruelly unattainable. It made Hinata’s stomach coil and twist and squeeze uncomfortably, it made him even more determined to create the perfect rehabilitation plan for Tobio’s leg so he could—

“I used to play Volleyball,” Kageyama said, “I don’t anymore though.” 

Hinata could feel goosebumps race across his skin, he could feel dread in the air, and in truth, Hinata knew exactly where this was going; but he asked anyway, in a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable. “Oh,” He breathed out shakily, “Why not?” 

The stillness which followed physically hurt Hinata, it made his throat tingle, and his eyes prick in apprehension. When Kageyama looked up and met his eyes, they weren’t just cold, they were hard and unmoving.

It became obvious to Hinata then that Kageyama--

“You know why.”

Hinata’s heart clenched, his throat froze up and the feeling running through his veins was an indescribable ache. He thought about denying it, but then Kageyama stood up with such a natural prowess that he began to cower where he sat. 

“W-wait Kageyama!” Hinata shot up after him, scared that he was heading for the front door, “I can explain—”

“Go on then,” Kageyama bit, eyebrows furrowed as he turned on his heels and stared so far into Hinata’s soul that his knees wobbled, “Explain.” 

In truth, Kageyama hadn’t stopped thinking about the document he’d seen in Hinata’s room, it drove him crazy. He knew though was being ridiculous; he knew he was freaking out but knowing that didn’t stop him from feeling sick to his stomach with anxiety. It didn’t stop him from breaking into Hinata’s room when he’d left for classes, didn’t stop him from finding the abundance of…Kageyama posters crumbled under his bed. Nor did it stop him from slinging open every draw in Hinata’s room and finding a document, signed by him, which gave Hinata access to his medical records. 

It didn’t stop Kageyama from being consumed by anger, from punching the tiles clean off the shower wall and then crying in frustration as he tried to glue the pieces back together with his shaken cut-up hand. It didn’t stop him from calling his doctor and trying to bargain with him, trying to tell him that he hadn’t seen Hinata in his office—he tried to convince not only the doctor but himself that it wasn’t Hinata that had lied to him, and stole and betrayed his trust, even when Tsukishima described Hinata perfectly.

It didn’t stop Kageyama from digging out his first-ever jersey that he couldn’t bring himself to part with, or the polaroid’s that he’d taken of his team after their first big win, and sobbing over them in pure disbelief and terror as he watched his knee give way during the recording of his last match. 

He couldn’t bear to look at Hinata, because he didn’t see the ray of sunshine he’d started to fall for—he saw a liar. Kageyama still hadn’t accepted what he’d found, he wanted to know why and how he knew but at the same time, he didn’t want to hear Hinata trying to explain himself, or worse…lying to his face.

“I—” Hinata’s eyes were big and glossy, full of so many emotions that Kageyama couldn’t pinpoint one accurately, he just knew that none of them were happy, “I’ve been a fan of you—” When Kageyama grimaced, Hinata changed his approach, “I mean! I just, uh I wanted to know why you’d stopped playing and then…I found out and I wanted to help.” 

“Help? You think that lying to me for months is helpful? Or forging my signature? Or using me as a fucking pet project so you can get a good grade—”

“No! No Kageyama I wouldn’t—that’s not! It isn’t just a project you’re important to me! I wanted you to be happy—”

“Happy?” Kageyama snarled, the sound rattled right through Hinata, and yanked a small ashamed sob out of his mouth, “Do I look happy right now? Hinata.” 

The carrot top shook his head quickly, no, he could hear the heaviness of his tears hitting the wooden floor under him and he could feel his bones rattling but he didn’t understand why. He knew he cared about Kageyama, but…he was reacting as if---

No no no no no oh god no

“B—bu—t you loved Volleyball so much! I went to all your matches—I—I saw how much you love it! I thought that if I made a program for you then you—you could play! you could play and you wouldn't be sad anymore you'd be happy and—”

The more Hinata reached for Kageyama, the further he drifted away, “That part of my life is over, it’s gone Hinata I’ll never—” for a split second, it sounded as if Kageyama choked back a small sob, “I’ll never play again! And I don’t want to! You think if I wanted to keep playing I’d—Id go so fucking far out of my way to avoid it!”

“Ka—age” Hinata wheezed through his cries, trying desperately to help the words claw their way out of his throat.

“You had no right to go behind my back like that! You had no right to assume how I feel! Why couldn’t you have just minded your fucking business!”

"No! you can't just--" Hinata's fist bawled by his sides as his fear escalated to such an extent that he went into fight or flight mode, and Hinata had never been one to run away, "You were miserable! I was trying to help you. What was I supposed to do just watch you mope around all day and not do anything about it?"

"Yes!" Kageyama yelled, "Yes you were! because I didn't ask you to help me. Did I ever confide in you? ever tell you anything about it myself? did I?" 

"No but--it's better than just running away scared!" 

"There is no but Hinata! I didn't want you to know about it--I-- I wasn't running away I was trying to move on and you just-- you just bought it all back!" Kageyama was crying now, thick heavy tears streamed down his face like a white rapids waterfall, "You have no idea how I felt back then, and you have no idea how I feel now. Stop acting as if you're entitled to know my business just because--because fuck! just--fuck off." 

Hinata could just about see Kageyama reach for the door through his own blurry vision, “No—wait Kage—please! I'm sorry-- I only wanted to help! I want you to—” The sound of the door closing behind Kageyama was the worst sound Hinata had ever heard, it was the nail in his perfect ice sculpture plan and Kageyama was the hammer—shattering it to pieces “Stay.” 

Hinata crumbled to the floor like a piece of discarded rubbish, his throat so tight he could hardly breath as he laid in the fetal posision on his floor-- "I want you to stay."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love Kita  
> Kita rights  
> finna get a Kita tattoo right next to my Bakugou one skajghahah
> 
> also Im sorry this chapter is poorly written idk whats wrong with me.  
> writing angst defo isn't my strong suite but I'm trying my best mkjhfdes

“Hinata? You ok in there?” Iwaizumi asked carefully, looming over the back of the sofa at the pile of pillows and blankets Hinata had buried himself under. 

Hinata had been on his sofa, trying to muffle his crying under those blankets, almost nonstop, for three days. The first day was the worst, he fell into the apartment so hard that he busted up his knees, he couldn’t inhale steadily and every exhale was a heart-breaking sob that echoed off the walls of his apartment, Iwaizumi couldn’t understand a word he was saying so he had no choice but to get him on the sofa and hope that some rest would help. It didn’t. Hinata couldn’t sleep, he just lied down on his side and cried like he was at death's door. The second day wasn’t any better, but he at least managed to tell Iwaizumi what had happened. All Hinata really wanted was to know where Kageyama had gone, it was hard for Iwaizumi to watch one of his best friends be so…broken down. For someone as bright, friendly, and energetic as Hinata to just stop. Stop talking, stop eating, stop existing. It was really upsetting.

The blanket moved slightly showing that he was alive at the very least.

On the third day, this day, Iwaizumi had called in the big guns.

“Chibi!” Oikawa burst through the door of the apartment, an obscene amount of shopping bags in hand with a sickeningly bright smile on his face, “I got your favorite meat buns, and some steamed veggies!” Oikawa, bless his heart, had sat with Hinata all day and night since he’d shown up. It was rare that Oikawa was away from him for more than ten minutes at a time, the man even got a speeding ticket on his way to the supermarket because he was worried Hinata would wake up from his fifth nap of the day without him.

Iwaizumi sighed, “Maybe get him to have a shower and change his clothes first.” He suggested.

Oikawa gasped, dramatic as ever, “Iwa-chan! Be more understanding Chibi is having a hard time right now. If he wants to curl himself in a blanket burrito and marinate in sleepy serotonin then let him.” His boyfriend whisper yelled, placing the bags on the floor in front of the sofa so Hinata could easily access whatever he wanted without having to move. “I understand that you should never say anything like that ever again,” Oikawa rolled his eyes,” and you also shouldn’t baby him so much, he's an adult,” Iwaizumi argued softly, “he’d probably feel better after a hot shower, right Hinata?” The entity under the blanket simply groaned in protest, “I wonder what Kita would say if he saw you like this?” Iwaizumi pondered aloud. Hinata’s form stiffened under the blanket. 

Ah yes, the big guns. 

If there was one person who could get Hinata out of his sad little cesspit it was Kita. He had this magical effect on Hinata, he was a constant source of inspiration for him to do better in every aspect of his life from studying hard to the small things like making sure he cleaned up after himself and looked presentable. This was exactly why Iwaizumi had called the man up and told him the situation. It was safe to say Kita had some strong opinions and he’d postponed business deals so he could take the train over and visit the tangerine in his time of need. 

Hinata’s voice was scratchy and rough, it sounded like barbwire through a cheese grater, but it was a relief to hear him speak actual words after three days of incoherent sobs “What time is he coming over?”

“His train gets in at around 7 p.m. so he’ll be around by 8 p.m. you’ve got exactly one hour.”

Iwaizumi watched as Hinata tossed and turned slowly under the blanket, obviously wondering if he could get away with staying on the sofa forever; but the cushions had been well and truly dented by his heavy body, meaning that laying on it was getting more and more uncomfortable. His muscles were stiff as planks too, and he was fairly sure if he didn’t stand up soon, he’d forget how to walk entirely. 

So, with a begrudged huff, Hinata arose from under the blankets.

Oikawa screamed as his water bottled slipped from his hands, “Shoyou!” Oikawa’s eyes vibrated with worry in his sockets, as did Iwaizumi’s.

They knew Hinata was upset, but Jesus fucking Christ. They didn’t expect him to look so…dead. If Oikawa saw this version of Hinata on the street he’d walk straight past him, the usual sunny man was barely recognizable. 

His skin was sickly pale, his eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying and he had a nasty rash under his eyes that looked super itchy, his lips were cracked and bloody at the corners and looked thinner somehow, his nostrils were scabby with snot from all his sniffling and even his hair looked a duller shade of orange. 

“I’m going, don’t hound me.” He got up from the sofa and didn’t spare a glance at Oikawa or Iwaizumi, he just headed toward the bathroom for a shower. 

“ShoSho wait a second,” Oikawa squeaked, catching up to the ghostly figure with a few large steps, “Here,” He shoved a plastic bag toward Hinata who held it close to his chest, “There are some fresh clothes in there, along with body wash—I got your favorite tropical one with matching Shampoo.” 

Hinata gave Oikawa a simple nod and an acknowledging hum before he slipped into the bathroom. Don't get it twisted, Hinata was very grateful for his friends. They'd gone out of their way to make sure he was alive and tried to cheer him up as best they could, but if anything the gestures made him feel worse. He felt like he was inconveniencing them, and he hated that more than he thought he would.

He turned the shower on, the hottest it would go, and actively avoided the mirror until the room had fogged with steam and distorted his reflection. He didn’t need to see himself to know he looked grim, he felt grim enough as it was; a little scarier though was that Hinata didn’t want to look at himself knowing that he’d see the same face that had made Kageyama’s eyes whip out tsunami tides of fat tears, staring back at him.

Hinata just couldn’t see how any of this was his fault. He couldn’t understand why Kageyama was so upset, but he knew that he’d done something bad.

All Hinata knew for sure was that Kageyama was not ok. 

As soon as Hinata noticed it, it was all he could see. All Kageyama’s little jokes were deflections, most of his smiles were tight and fake. During the day, out in public, Kageyama was a lie. He was just an apparition of a person, Kageyama was so dejected he’d fallen into a routine of contemplating if he was actually happy and that feeling the way he did was normal.

It wasn’t normal. 

Every time he saw Kageyama’s mask slip his throat ran dry, his heart clenched for him. He hated it, it made Hinata genuinely angry sometimes that he was living the way he was, feeling the way he was, and more than that, he was actively going along with it too. Kageyama made no efforts to change, he wasn’t just in a slump, he’d buried himself deep underground, and even though he was slowly dying without air he was too scared to pull his head out. 

All Hinata was trying to do was to pull Kageyama back to the surface. Doing that, or trying to, wasn’t a bad thing—it wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t going to say he was wrong when he wasn’t, what good would lying do? 

Hinata hopped into the shower, the borderline boiling water tingled, and instantly turned his sensitive skin red in protest; but he didn’t change the temperature, that scolding was the only solid thing he’d felt outwardly in days. It was grounding, although it didn’t compare to the horrid ache in his chest, or the burning of his throat and the dropping of his stomach.

Hinata got to work lathering the nice smelling body wash on the loofa Oikawa had gifted him before scrubbing himself half raw. He shampooed the nest atop his head and cringed at how knotted and dry it had become. 

After a couple of minutes there was a strong knock at the door, “You ok in their Chibi?” Oikawa’s voice was largely drowned out by the loud stream of water, but he wasn’t completely inaudible.

Hinata responded by shutting the water off and stepping out. He thought it’d only been a few minutes but in actuality, Hinata had been in the shower for almost an hour. The clothes in the bag were slightly damp from condensation, but Hinata pulled the large hoody over himself anyway. He stopped halfway when a familiar scent flooded his nose, numbing his mind, and jerking his heart wildly. He rushed to pull the joggers on and practically fell out of the bathroom—heavy droplets from his hair spilling over the floor. 

Oikawa was sat on the sofa in front of the bathroom sipping tea, “Whose hoodie is this?” Hinata tried to ask calmly, but the shakiness in his voice betrayed the underlying nervousness in his stomach.

Oikawa turned around, his eyes wandered over the hoodie once before he smiled softly, “It’s one of Tobio’s old ones, he wore it to one of my sleepovers in high school and left it behind.” Hinata gulped, “I kept it, thought I’d see him again eventually and give it back. How could you tell?”

Hinata’s hands unconsciously tightened around the thick cream fabric, it didn’t quite drown Hinata, but it clearly wasn’t his size either—” It smells like him.” He said truthfully, not caring about how creepy he sounded. 

To his surprise, Oikawa just laughed, his eyes held this annoying, mischievous glint, “Kita—” Oikawa was interrupted by a knock at the door. His smile only widened once he’d gotten up and opened it, “You sir have impeccable comedic timing.” Oikawa beamed at the shorter, bored-looking man.

“What’s funny?” He replied before stepping into the small student dorm, eyes scanning floor to ceiling as if he were the landlord of the place, “Where’s Hinata?” His eyes soon fell on the ginger, hair sopping wet wearing clothes miles too big for him and Hinata was suddenly very glad he’d taken the incentive to shower, “Let’s go.”

Hinata knew better than to question Kita, so he shoved his damp feet in the slides he’d come running down the stairs in three days ago, on the verge of a full-blown mental collapse, and followed the clean-put together man wherever he wanted to go. 

Turns out, Kita didn’t want to go far at all. 

“This is…uh,” Hinata’s voice cracked in front of the familiar door. He searched Kita’s face for any emotion he could, sympathy, empathy, compassion…nervousness- but as usual there was nothing their past logic. 

“You can’t stay on Iwaizumi’s sofa forever,” Kita pushed the door open to Hinata’s cold apartment, “It’s a miracle you didn’t get robbed, what were you thinking leaving the door and windows open?” 

Hinata knew Kita wasn’t scolding him, but It sure felt like he was as he shuffled into the apartment behind him. For Hinata, it looked like a murder scene. The blanket Kageyama was wrapped in was still on the sofa, opened up, and crinkled from when he’d stood up and thrown it back. To Kita, the dorm was just a mess. 

“I didn’t stay that long.” Hinata grumbled under his breath, thinking the man couldn’t hear him.

He could hear him, “three days is a long time when you do nothing but sleep,” he said, “Sit down,” Hinata did as he was told, sitting up on the sofa with his back stiff while Kita closed the windows and drew the curtains. The darkness made Hinata feel more comfortable, as did the feeling of the soft blanket underneath him.

Kita sat next to him, his brown eyes seemed kinder in the shadows of the dorm, “What did you do Hinata?” 

“I was only trying to help.” Hinata said quickly, defending himself from whatever cold truth Kita was about to unload onto him.

“I don’t doubt that, but I didn’t ask that. I asked what you did.” 

Hinata tried to ignore the feelings that were being whirled inside of him like he was some kind of washing machine of despair, and explained everything in chronological order just the way he knew Kita liked it. He explained how he had been a fan of Kageyama for a long time, had gone to his games, and had a lot of memorabilia. He explained how Kageyama disappeared from the sport, then how he ended up at his door, and that Oikawa had told him not to mention Volleyball. He gave a brief and censored overview of the type of relationship he and Kageyama had, and how he’d noticed Kageyama was sad and hiding something. He told him all about his therapy plan, the research, the doctors all up until the week where Kageyama had been acting differently and then, of course, the catastrophic confrontation. 

Kita nodded his way through the lengthy explanation, and at the end only had one thing to say, “You should apologize.” 

“What?” Hinata would have yelled if he had the energy to spare, “but he totally blew up in my face—”

“Kageyama, from the sounds of it, has been through quite a lot physically and psychologically.” Kita said softly, “Did you ever think about how you’d feel in his position.”

“I’d be happy that someone cared about me enough to try and help.” Hinata grumbled childishly.

“Would you?” Hinata nodded without a second thought, “Let's put it this way, then. What is something you love to do?” 

Hinata’s eyebrows furrowed “Uh, I don’t know…going to sophies?” 

Kita sighed heavily, “Ok. Fine. Let’s put it like this. Imagine if Sophies suddenly closed and you couldn’t go anymore. How would you feel?” 

“Sad, I guess.”

“Then what if you were told Sophies was going to be demolished and rebuilt? Would you want to go back there, knowing that everything you knew about sophies had changed? The menu would be different and so would the layout and the workers.” 

“What? No of course I wouldn’t that’s stupid. It wouldn’t be the same.” 

“The imagine if you’re Kageyama. You love Volleyball, you get injured and you have to have surgery. Your body is different, you can’t do the same things you used to be able to, but everyone expects you to be the same as you were before.” Hinata’s mouth was agape, “Would you want to go back to playing Volleyball?” 

Hinata gulped the hard lump in his throat, his shaky hands dug anxiously into the hem of the jumper he was wearing, of Kageyama’s jumper, “No.” Hinata knew in his heart then that he was in the wrong, but it was hard to accept. He didn’t want to accept it, “I mean…it could be worse right?” Hinata asked, an almost hopeful twinkle in his eye.

Kita didn’t even pretend to think about his answer, “In this instance, no. your conversation couldn’t have gone any worse.” Hinata groaned loudly, falling back on the sofa and shoving his palms into his eyes, “You got lucky, it’s a miracle all he did was leave.”

Hinata didn’t verbally respond, but the curious look he shot Kita was more than enough to push Kita to elaborate, “From what I’ve heard, Kageyama was a terror when he played Volleyball in high school. He was tyrannical and pushed his teammates way too hard, he wasn’t the soft person you just described to me. I remember one instance where he got into a physical fight with his spiker, it wasn’t pretty, and they didn’t speak for weeks.” 

Hinata quite honestly couldn’t believe that. Sure, he and Kageyama had a bit of an awkward rough patch for the first few weeks, but he wasn’t particularly mean. He was so sweet to everyone at the party, he fit right into conversation despite not knowing Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kenma. He’d only ever seemed like he wanted to please, not to be above anyone.

“But h—”

“He clearly cares about you a lot Hinata, that definitely adds to why he was as upset as he was.” Hinata shot Kita a puzzled look, “He expected more from you.”

Now that revelation really didn’t help Hinata feel any better. If anything, he probably felt worse after the conversation than he did before. 

On top of that, there was this nagging in the back of his mind that, despite always being there, had become increasingly harder to ignore over the coming months. What was Kageyama to him? how did he see Kageyama? because he'd like to say they were friends, but friends defiantly don't flirt, makeout, and suck each other off. He'd be an absolute idiot to deny the fact that he was in fact completely crushing on Kageyama, and had been for most of his life; but now that they knew each other personally it was so much more intense, and now that he'd really upset Kageyama his heart was just...hurting, constantly every day. He didn't know what to call it exactly, but he felt like if he didn't make up with Kageyama soon the feeling would kill him.

“What should I do?” he asked, his tone strained and desperate, “Tell me what I should do to make it up to him.” 

Kita’s turned away in thought, the cogs in his brain turning unnaturally slowly, “I don’t know.” Hinata groaned once more, “You know him best, what would make him feel better?” 

The carrot top snorted, his mind wandering back to the days of playful fighting and insults, “Probably if I died.” 

“That doesn’t seem very practical.” 

Hinata had stopped listening, instead opting to let his thoughts take word form, “I’ve left him at least two voicemails every day for the past three days and he hasn’t responded to any of them.” Hinata complained as if he was talking about his amazon order being delivered a day later than it was supposed to be, “I’m trying to reach out and apologize, he just isn’t letting me.”

“He’ll need time Hinata, just give him some space and work on improving what you can.” Kita’s smile was soft, encouraging. 

“How’d you get so good at advice anyway?” 

“I’m not, I’m just friends with idiots.” 

At that, Hinata laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. It wasn’t hearty, or rib splitting, and it didn’t last long at all, but it was a step in the right direction. He’d gotten a foot out of his three-day depressive, self-loathing spiral, and he was praying he could pull himself out of it before Kageyama decided he'd rather die than see him again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some kags pov  
> im sorry the formatting for this is sketchy as hELL

Kageyama had become increasingly fidgety in the days he spent away from Hinata. He felt like he should have been doing something dramatic and cliché, like having a breakdown, crying himself to sleep every night, or eating an obscene amount of food; but he hadn’t done any of that so far. Sure, he cried initially and he was pretty sure he felt his heart shatter at the revelation that somebody he'd come to deeply trust and care about had betrayed him. And he’d probably still feel that way if it wasn’t for him choosing to distract himself from it all. 

But if anything, Kageyama’s anxiety was steaming from being away from Hinata. Why? because it meant he had to go to other people. And he swore he’d been through all seven stages of grief in the two hours he’d spent with Atsumu. 

He’d braved the volleyball court for some stress relief, but instead, all he got was a headache from how hard the other setter jump served and irritated by how much better his form had gotten since they’d last played against each other. 

He never thought he’d see a court again, but Hinata’s words kept echoing in his head- bouncing off the walls of his skull and constantly attacking his subconscious.

“It's better than just running away.”

Kageyama, in all the years he’d spent contemplating his absence from the sport, had never thought his leave could be seen as running away. What he was doing wasn’t running away, he had to leave for an injury…and therapy which…in fairness he didn’t attend, but Kageyama had never run from anything in his life. Yet, there was this indescribably feeling he had which ran deeper, it was like his heart knew Hinata was right to say he’d been running away—that he had been running scared of the unknown—but his brain was struggling to accept it. 

It made staying mad at Hinata…incredibly hard, which was incredibly frustrating. He should be fuming; he should be ready to pack his stuff out of that apartment and block the man’s number after what he did. That was the way he should be reacting.

That’s how Kageyama thought he should feel. 

But he didn’t feel that way...and he thought that wasn't right. 

“Must’ve been pretty desperate if you came here Tobi” Atsumu said with his usual annoyingly playful tone, it was as if whenever he spoke to you, he was secretly laughing at you. Which Atsumu had been trying not to do, especially since he found how Kageyama had been sulking in the corner since he’d arrived hilarious.

“Don’t call me Tobi—”

“Tobi obi—”

“Shut up.”

Atsumu laughed wildly as he tossed the ball into the air and spiked it over the net effortlessly. Atsumu wasn’t wrong about Kageyama being desperate, he’d done nothing but overthink his own thoughts for the whole week. Still, that didn’t mean he liked being called out so blatantly. He’d thought Atsumu would rise to the challenge of being a good, older brother figure like he’d tried to be back during the Tokyo training camp; but if anything he seemed to enjoy ripping Kageyama to shreds. 

“At least the pipsqueak cares you know?” Atsumu jogged over with a water bottle in hand, towel over his shoulders, and sweat pouring down his face.

Kageyama scowled, trying to pull any ounce of anger he had in him to the surface, “He lied to me, for months.” 

“Well yeah, but if he hadn’t, you’d probably still be living with your overprotective babying parents, right?” Kageyama shot a sharp glare toward the dyed blonde, who lifted his arms defensively, “I’m just saying it how it is dude, he did you a favor.” 

“You’re really not helping,” Kageyama complained, filing down his overgrown nails to the perfect setting length, not that he planned on setting. He was more than happy to be in the atmosphere of a court again, he didn’t need to risk fucking that up.

“If anyone’s not helping, it's you,” Atsumu grumbled, as he sat on the bench next to Kageyama, the wood creaking and bending under the weight of thick, pro-athlete muscle. Kageyama glared at him, “Ok yeah sure, he went behind your back yada yada yada, whatever. Point is, he didn’t do it to make you mad or to upset you. He literally just tried to help,” Atsumu took a big swig of his drink and eyed the way Kageyama’s eyes fell to the floor in contemplation, “he’s just a bit dim is all.”

Kageyama huffed out a laugh, “You’re one to talk about dim,”

“Hey! I’m tryna help you out you ungrateful little shit!” Atsumu grumbled, wiping down the sweat on his face before he stood, only to plonk himself onto the floor in front of him. Easily leaning into his warm down routine, stretching his legs wide and massaging the thick muscles covering his thighs to prevent muscle strains. The warm down was…definitely an activity Kageyama should have paid more attention to. “You're making yourself feel worse by lying to yourself, ya know?” Atsumu said, “It’s painfully obvious you’re not mad at him. And it’s literally better for you not to be mad, so stop tryna make yourself mad.” 

Kageyama frowned. He’d forgotten how perceptive the man could be. 

Was Atsumu right though? Was it right to just…forgive and move on? Kageyama just…he’d never known anyone who could do that. Everyone held onto anger, everyone held grudges and threatened revenge and let bitterness grow inside their chest and around their heart like a bushel of weeds.

To simply forgive seemed a little…well, unrealistic. Even though Kageyama’s chest ached for it. 

After nearly ten full minutes of nothing but light tired groans, Atsumu spoke again, “Accept the things you can’t change, and change the things you can’t accept.” He said, lifting his head. His eyes held an unwavering sincerity that Kageyama rarely saw off the court, or out of matches, “That’s what gram always told me and Sumu. It kinda applies to everything, ya know?” 

Kageyama smiled weakly, “I know. And it does, thank you. That’s the most helpful thing you’ve ever said.” 

Atsusmu’s smile was gleeful and giddy, “Good! Because it’s the only advice I know.”

“Atsumu I—” Kageyama sighed, embarrassed, “I hate to ask but…could I maybe stay with you for a few days? Wanna think some things over.” 

Atsumu’s response was immediate, “Sure thing little bro, you can count on me!” 

And in absolute fairness to Atsumu, in the end, he was a big help.

Kageyama stayed in his flat, on the other side of town, for a full week. And despite it being located in the city center, the atmosphere was peaceful. Kageyama ran no risks of bumping into Hinata on the streets, or while he and Atsumu were grocery shopping. And Atsumu pulled out his most high-quality futon for Kageyama to sleep on, he even gave him one of his best pillows and a thick duvet. 

He was a surprisingly good host.

Atsusmu tried to keep Kageyama’s mind far away from Hinata by distracting him. He dragged Tobio out almost every night, to bars to play pool, or to karaoke houses, restaurants, over to his friend’s apartment parties. However, all the unusual exposer lead to a different response. Instead of Kageyama’s mind being distracted by all the new activities and people, his brain compared Hinata to them.

Kageyama had never thought about Hinata more than he did than when he was with Atsumu’s friends. They were all so…generic. Sure, some had fun personalities and little quirks and it wasn’t like they were boring, it's just that…they weren’t Hinata.

It was 1.a.m by the time Kageyama and Atsumu tumbled into the apartment, after a long night of socializing and drinking at Suna’s house the pair wasted no time at all getting into bed. Kageyama washed up after Atsumu, turned all the lights off, made sure the door was locked, and tumbled onto the futon in the living room.

As he laid, eyes closed and daydreaming, the light buzz of alcohol he’d consumed seemed to grow stronger. It was like the world was spinning, not fast enough for it to make him feel sick but fast enough to make him giggle innocently. He wriggled, left to right, right to left, he took the covers halfway off then completely off, and then he completely emersed himself in them only to pop his dead out moments later. He was restless, and it wasn’t long until thoughts of the energetic orange popped into his head. 

Kageyama stretched his arm for the coffee table and patted around the top blindly, his hand touching everything on the surface except the one thing he wanted. Until his hands finally brushed over his phone. He still hadn’t listed to Hinata’s voicemails, at first, he was too angry, then he was too scared and after a while, he just thought that the moment had passed and whatever messages Hinata had left wouldn’t be relevant anymore. But in his buzzing state, he didn’t care. He wanted to hear Hinata’s voice again, no matter what words left his mouth.

Kageyama successfully opened his phone on the fourth attempt and wasted no time in clicking on the untouched notifications, calling his voicemail, and pulling the cold device to his ear. 

“Welcome to the NTT docomo voicemail service, you have six unopened voicemails.” 

There was a harsh, high-pitched beep to signal the beginning of the first message which stung Kageyama’s brain; but after that, for a few moments a least, the line was eerily silent. The only indication of this being an actual voicemail was the quiet sound of rustling on the other end. 

And then, Hinata spoke. “Kageyama, Hi. I—god, I don’t even know what I can say to you right now.” The roughness of Hinata’s voice made it clear that he’d been crying, and Kageyama’s heart couldn’t help but drop with sympathy, “I’m so so so sorry,” he snuffed, “I shouldn’t have gone behind you back—I—I shouldn’t have, I should have—I mean. I was happy with how we were and I…I shouldn’t have tried to change that. I hope that you’re ok, god that was probably a dumb thing to ask, fuck. Ok just…take care of yourself, and please please call me back.” 

Another sharp beep “Voicemail number two, 13 days ago” The automated speech rang.

“Hey, Kageyama… I know you probably don’t want to talk about....Well, you know...” He said, in a soft, almost hopeless tone. “A-And that’s okay!” He hastily added. “We don’t have to — I understand! We can talk about anything you want to, so just… call me back, okay?”

There was something in the tone of Hinata’s voice loomed over Kageyama, casting a large shadow on his mind that made him feel sick. That reinforced whatever feeling of longing he had for the tangerine, and it was nerve-racking. 

“Voicemail number three, 11 days ago. ” 

“I know this must be getting weird, like…” He faltered. “I-I don’t know, I keep calling you like this. I’m probably coming off really uhh—like ya know, obsessive.” He released a short huff of what Kageyama, knowing Hinata, was intended to be a light-hearted laugh. But to his trained ear, it just sounded like a softer, sudden release of breath that bordered on vaguely concerned. “It’s just—that I just— I just hope you’re doing okay, Kageyama. You haven’t, come home yet and….” He sighed, and this time it was clear how distressed Hinata was, “That’s… that’s all.” Hinata swallowed audibly, his voice wavering as he continued, “Uhm, just text me, or something… maybe…”

Kageyama’s breath caught in his throat when he heard the telltale click of the line going dead. He caught himself gripping the duvet harshly and pulled the covers tighter around himself. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but... that darkness over Hinata’s tone, when Kageyama heard it — it made him feel so cold.

“Voicemail number four, 10 days ago” 

“Kita came by to do a welfare check on me today—” Hinata’s tone was different this time, it was lighter, “I feel bad for taking up his time, I don’t deserve to be taken care of—I’m the one whos in the wrong, I should—I just.” Hinata sighed heavily, “I..I threw away my assignment—Kageyama I threw it away, I couldn’t even—I mean. I couldn’t use it after…after everything—that, just. It wouldn’t be right.” Kageyama wasn’t sure when his arm had started to shake, but now that he’d noticed it he couldn’t stop it, “I—I know that you’re not…at least that your not planning on calling me back so, I’m just…please know how sorry I am.” 

“Voicemail number five, 6 days ago.”

Hinata took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s… I know it’s selfish—I’m selfish for saying this but—" His voice faltered for a moment, “I miss you, Kageyama—” Kageyama immediately paused the message. His heart was thumping so hard he could feel the veins in his head pounding; After taking a few deep breaths, Kageyama closed his eyes and leaned himself back onto the pillows, skipping back a few seconds before he hit play again.

“I miss you, Kageyama. I miss talking to you and listening to you talk, and all your stupid remarks and our David Attenborough marathons, it’s…” His voice sounded stuffy, for a second, Kageyama wondered if he was sick. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t help it, it’s just—” Hinata halted suddenly, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “I just miss you, Kageyama.” The line went silent for several seconds. Long enough that Kageyama had to actually glance at the screen just to be sure the message hadn’t ended. When Hinata finally spoke again, it was in this unbelievably fragile tone that sounded so incongruous with Hinata’s voice. It was the epitome of who Hinata was. “It’s like you’re always--Like, I always end up thinking about you, Kageyama. Always. It’s like I’m some schoolgirl with a crush.” He released a noise, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, then paused. “I-I mean, I guess that’s… I guess that’s at least half-true.”

It took a few seconds for Kageyama’s drunken brain to catch up, for him to comprehend the meaning behind those words wrapped in the heart-breaking tone Hinata had wrapped them in. His breathing slowed to a stop, and he sunk himself underneath the comforting warmth of the duvet, his mind reeling.

“Shoyou…” He breathed.

Hinata paused, sniffling. “God, I must seem like such a m-mess to you...” Kageyama didn’t even realize the message had ended until several seconds afterward. His eyes remained wide, and he kept waiting for Hinata to say more, to say something, but—

“Voicemail number six, 6 days ago” 

“I’m sorry, god that was so— so wrong of me to say.” Hinata started, his tone sheepish, but otherwise even. “That was… it was unfair.”

Kageyama found himself whisper- yelling into the phone as if he believed Hinata could still hear him. As if Hinata was still there, waiting for him. “What’s fucking unfair is that I can’t even say it back now, you asshole!” He buried himself further into the duvet. 

“I’m sorry, Kageyama.” Hinata huffed a short laugh. “God, I just keep making mistakes, don’t I? I just always…mess up”

Kageyama released a violent yell of aggravation as he rolled over, his shoulder digging into the futon until he could feel the hardwood beneath it. 

“I-I understand now that…that you don’t want to…to keep living with me.” Hinata’s voice shook weakly, “Or, to—to be f-friends with me.” 

Kageyama’s mouth hung open for a few seconds, as all the air was suffocated from his lungs. Breathlessly, he whispered, “What...” He blinked, eyes growing wide. “What are you—” the words sounded so strained with no breath to fuel them. Somehow, despite knowing Hinata couldn’t hear him, speaking felt more urgent to Kageyama than breathing. 

“I’ll leave you alone now, Kageyama.” 

The ring at the end of the voicemails was deafening. 

Even with the alcohol numbing his general sense of feeling, the tightness of his chest was clear to him—as was the increase in his breathing, the tightening of his throat, and the stinging of his eyes. Kageyama’s shakey fingers hovered over Hinata’s call button for an ungodly amount of time. He wanted to talk to him, and at that moment his trauma was forced into the backseat of his brain for the first time since it reared its ugly head. All his head was filled with was Hinata. How much he missed him, and gd he missed him, he really really missed him. How broken and hopeless he'd sounded, how badly and sincerely he'd tried to apologize over and over again. How absolutely determined he was to make him happier.

But the most important thought Kageyama had by far, was that he wasn't going to let Hinata go this easily.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS!!!  
> just a heads up, I likely won't be updating this story for a little while :(  
> I have a ton of work to do for Uni, and I'm also going home for Christmas which means I won't have much time to write.  
> SO  
> I thought i'd upload this part early! just to leave you guys with something positive to read :)  
> IM REALLY SORRY PLS UNDERSTAND! THIS BOOK IS NOWHERE NEAR FINISHED YET SO DON'T PANIC! I'M NOT GIVING UP ON IT!

“You want an extension on your final assignment?” Hinata’s module supervisor repeated, her grey eyes looked somewhat horrified and it wasn’t doing wonders for Hinata’s confidence, “Hinata, you have at least another month until it’s due. Why are you asking me such silly questions now?” 

Hinata’s fingers toyed with the frayed strings at the bottom of his gym bag, “I just—the concept I originally proposed fell through and I don’t know if I could find the time to start it all over again. It took me nearly a month to get all of my research materials for that let alone execute the experiment and start on a write-up.” Hinata didn’t sound like himself, he hadn’t for quite a while actually and all of his friends had noticed it. He was dull, grey. There was nothing to him anymore, no zeal, he had no determination or expectations, there was no life to him. 

He’d somehow just become a name to call, that’s all he was, all he felt like. Even though he was nothing like the Hinata Shoyou people held a fondness for.

He was an idiot to think that he could help Kageyama, and an idiot to think that Kageyama would want his help. But above all else, Hinata was an idiot for thinking Kageyama would forgive him, because the mistake he’d had made was of gargantuan proportion…and he treated it like, well, like it was forgivable. 

It wasn’t. 

He didn’t understand that at first, even after Kita’s pep talk the situation hadn’t fully sunk into his brain. When it did though, god Hinata probably could’ve filled multiple Olympic sized swimming pools with how much he cried. It was embarrassing, it truly was. 

He realized before, the first time, he was crying for himself. He was crying because he was hurt, naturally, but it was because he was scared. Like when your parents would yell at you when you were younger, you’d cry because of the sudden confrontation but didn’t necessarily understand why.

The second time, however, he was crying for Kageyama. Crying because he couldn’t bear being in the position he was in, to have your feelings assumed, your trauma exhumed and presented in front of you like some kind of neat toy for everyone to see. It was vile, and Hinata felt vile for doing it.

The woman in front of Hinata sighed heavily, “I’m sorry Hinata, but I can’t grant an extension this far away from a deadline. You’ll just have to try your best to develop a new project plan until the due date is closer. But even then, you understand I can only give you an extra week or so, right?”

Hinata nodded, “I understand.” Hie slung his bag up higher onto his shoulder and bowed politely “Thank you for your help.” 

Despite his mind being a mess, Kita and Iwaizumi had made sure his body didn’t suffer. After all, in the wise words of Kita, “It’s a lot harder to calm a suffering mind when your body is also suffering.” Which, just like everything Kita said, was annoyingly true.

Kita helped Hinata with meal prep, he face-timed him almost every day so he could virtually inspect the apartment and make sure he wasn’t wallowing in his own filth. He made sure his diet was balanced and tried his best to check if Hinata was getting enough rest. And Iwaizumi made sure Hinata was taking care of his body, whether it was simple stretches in the park or a full-on workout session in the gym didn’t matter. If he got out of the house at least once a day the pair were satisfied.

One thing they hadn’t expected though, was how quickly Hinata gained weight. It was borderline abnormal. With three large well-balanced meals a day, plenty of water, and rigorous days of exercise, Hinata had managed to gain almost four pounds. Which wasn’t incredibly noticeable to those who didn’t see Hinata often, but to Iwaizumi and Oikawa it was noticeable; not in a bad way either, when Hinata wore his gym shorts now his thighs looked like they could crush coconuts. It was one thing that, albeit trivial and unimportant, gave Hinata s shred of pride in this time where it felt like everything had fallen apart.

Hinata trudged his way through his new daily routine. He went to his classes, and instead of going home, he went straight to the gym with Iwaizumi. Hinata worked out until his thighs cramped up until his arms buckled under the weights, and his abs burnt. He always pushed it a little too far and was always scolded by Iwaizumi for it. In a kinda fucked up way, Hinata actually liked the pain of it now. The tension in his muscles that made it hard to move, or even breathe sometimes. It reminded him that he could feel pain in other areas of his body, what normal physical pain felt like. Not this…emotional strain. His chest, his heart—it’d been…well, it had made itself very known. It hurt, all the time. It’d sting for a quick second, and then the pain would spread like a wildfire constricting the organ painfully in an erratic beat. Then it would just stop. But the aftermath of it was the worst, it was dull and heavy, and it wouldn’t stop, it didn’t matter what Hinata did…that pain always remained.

Whenever it hurt to move after a workout, Hinata welcomed it with open arms. 

“I think I’ll call it a day,” Iwaizumi huffed, guzzling back his bottle of water like an animal in drought. He was gleaming with sweat; his grey tank top was ruined with the obvious marks of sweat over his back, around his arms, hell even on the chest. He’d worked harder than normal today, and as if Iwaizumi could read Hinata’s mind, he told him why “You’re getting a lot harder to keep up with,” He praised, patting an encouraging hand on Hinata’s back which was, in retrospect, equally as sweaty.

Hinata smiled weakly, “I probably shouldn’t overdo it either.” He said, and Iwaizumi hummed in agreement, “I’ll finish my squats and then get going.” 

Iwaizumi smiled, “Alright,” He collected his headphones, bottle, and little handtowels he’d bought with him, “I’ll trust you just this once, but text me when you get home ok?” Hinata nodded in agreement and watched as the taller man’s legs carried him out the door toward the locker room. 

Hinata put in his own headphones, letting the slowed and reverbed playlist ease him into his squats and later into his warm down. He only stayed for an hour after Iwaizumi left, but as he picked up his water bottle and towel to make his way down to the locker room, his limbs felt like jelly. He scrubbed the sweat off his body in the gym showers and shoved on a clean tracksuit for the walk back to his dorm. It had gotten surprisingly dark, the sky was a deep enchanting blue- a colour that seemed to haunt Hinata recently- and the bright orange of the cheap streetlights create some type of abstract painting look to the world. It was a view that made Hinata tingle with warmth, even though the walk back was freezing.

Hinata made it to his apartment in no time, he shoved the key in the lock and… “What the hell” Hinata muttered as he twisted the key once more, but it jammed as if…he placed a palm softly on the door, gulped down the nervous feeling in his stomach, and pushed it slowly. To his horror…it opened. 

He was certain he’d locked the door after he’d left, he always locked the door there’s no way.

His brain stalled after further thought, it was likely just Oikawa checking in again. But the man’s usual lounging spot, the sofa, was completely empty. In fact, nothing seemed out of place in the living room or kitchen. 

“Maybe I did just forget to lock it.” Hinata pondered, dropping his bag in the doorway lazily as he trudged his way to his room. 

However, he didn’t make it very far. When his eyes cast over his room, he screamed. Jumped out of the room and slammed the door after him. Only to swing it open a few moments later as if him repeatedly opening and closing the door would somehow change the interior. But it didn’t. they were still there. Staring at him, startling him. 

Plastered all over Hinata’s room were his old posters. His Kageyama posters.

Every 

Single 

One

Hinata could feel his eyes welling up, the familiar burning of his chest rising up at the sight—only it wasn’t necessarily that it was Kageyama setting, just that…it was Kageyama.

This was one sick fucking joke. 

Hinata rushed forward into his room, muttering curses to Oikawa and Bokuto and just every single person he could think of that would have snuck into his apartment—he plucked the tape off each corner and threw them hastily on the bed. Unconsciously, he was still trying to make sure they didn’t rip or crinkle, and that drove him crazy. Because he wanted to rip them off the walls, he wanted to tear through them the way it felt like his heart had been torn through; but he couldn’t. So instead he continued to curse, to curse everyone except the person who—

“Hey wait! I like that one.” 

Hinata yelped, whipping around so fast that he was surprised his head didn’t fly clean off. His eyes burnt at the sight, scrunching closed and then opening again like he couldn’t register what he was seeing—who he was seeing.

The dark-haired man smiled softly, stepping into the room with cautious feet—practically tiptoeing around Hinata like he was a hyper-flighty deer.  
He looked good in his ripped jeans and an oversized jumper, just stood there with his hands in his pockets. The epitome of casual. But he looked different somehow, he looked rested.

“K—kage—yama,”

“Hinata.” His voice was steady, unwavering in its greeting, his smile was soft and welcoming, and it hit Hinata right in the gut, “Come here.”

Hinata was moving before his brain could even give the instruction. He crashed into Kageyama’s chest with a throaty sob, his stomach dropping all the way to the floor as he felt those familiar strong arms wrap around his tightly, protectively with purpose. Hinata fisted the back of Kageyama’s hoodie with an iron grip, worried that if he let go Kageyama would disappear again. 

“Wh—ha—”

“Shhh,” Kageyama soothed, crushing Hinata fully against his chest so hard that the carrot top could hardly take in a breath, “Don’t ruin the moment.” He could practically hear the smile on the taller man's face as he said that. Hinata choked out an almost insane sounding laugh and let himself be completely smothered by the feeling of Kageyama’s solid chest, by his smooth smell that had vanished from the dorm far too long ago. His large hands buried in his messy, knotted hair.

However, the calm composure Kageyama came with was quick to crumble at the edges, “I—” Kageyama breathed, “I’m not sure how to—start.” Hinata could feel the man's gulp sliding down his throat, and that’s when he realized should be nervous. He should be feeling so many different things, anticipation, guilt, and in truth he probably was and just couldn’t focus on more than one at a time, because it felt like Kageyama could do anything and Hinata would only register the comfort he bought him, “I listened to your voicemails.” Hinata stiffened…ok, now he was nervous, “all of them.”

Hinata wanted to die at that moment, wanted the world to swallow him whole and spit him out in a different country. The whine that came out of his throat was pathetic, “Did you—” Hinata could hear Kageyama’s heart racing through his hoodie, and it was fast…but nowhere near as fast as Hinata’s “Did you mean it?” 

The carrot top had no choice, he had to pull away to answer. He lifted his head out of Kageyama’s chest and backed up a single step before Kageyama’s stronghold stopped him. Keeping him right in front of him, there was no escape this time. No running. Hinata lifted his head up, watery eyes meeting the faint nervous blush high on Kageyama’s cheeks.

There was only one thing that Kageyama could be talking about. 

“Y—yes! Of course, I did. I threw everything away—” Kageyama’s eyes widened, and made Hinata stop in his tracks, “What? Why are you—”

“Not that, Hinata not that part,” Kageyama was…smiling. How could he be smiling in a situation like this? wasn’t he livid? Anxious? Scared? “I meant the part about you being a schoolgirl.” 

“Uh,” Hinata’s legs wobbled underneath him, and as soon as his brain caught on his cheeks set fire in mortification. He managed a little huff of amusement, more entertained by his own stupidity than anything else, “I’m not a schoolgirl.” 

Kageyama’s smile didn’t waver, it got brighter “So,” He paused, pretending to think in such an endearing way that had Hinata remembering every single little reason why he lov---“Is the other part true?” 

Hinata gulped harshly, he didn’t want to confess like this. He was in an absolute state, “This—uh it wha—mm” Hinata’s eyes fell down, planted right at his feet. He never should have said anything in the first place, he shouldn’t have done a lot of things in reality. What he should do, what he needed to do even though he was terrified, was to confront the larger situation at hand “Don’t we have other things to talk about,” Hinata mumbled, “that are more…important, right now.”

Kageyama visibly deflated, his grip loosened and Hinata felt the man's sigh flick his hair like a summer breeze would, “Yeah, ok.” Kageyama released Hinata completely, and the orange was embarrassingly quick to look up and make sure he was still in front of him. He was, “I’ll be incredibly straight with you.” Kageyama’s hand reached to ruffle the back of his hair, he was nervous, “You—you really upset me. As a friend I, I trusted you. I cared about you a lot too, and I…well maybe it was stupid of me to think you wouldn’t know who I was when you were friends with people in the volleyball circuit.” Kageyama moved to sit on the bed, pushing aside the posters so they had enough room to sit, and encouraged Hinata to sit next to him—which he did, “Either way, you—the way that you went behind my back like that hurt me.” 

Kageyama took a pause, a pause so long that Hinata was terrified that he’d changed his mind and didn’t want to talk after all. Hinata shuffled on the mattress, he looked down at his legs dangling beneath him and felt like he was on a rollercoaster which was about to drop.

Kageyama was going to tell him that he couldn’t forgive him, that he was collecting his stuff and he’d never be back, Kageyama was going to tell Hinata that this was just for politeness sake and he was leaving--

“I’ve always loved Volleyball. I’ve always played it too, even when I was a toddler, I tried to set to myself.” Kageyama smiled at the memory, “It was the only thing I ever wanted to do, the only thing I felt I was good at. It was what I—I thought was like, my purpose. So, when I…well, you know what I did.” Hinata looked up and stared at the man in awe, listening intently as Kageyama opened up to him, “My world just…broke. And you were right, I was…I was fucking terrified of having surgery, even more so of the therapy afterward. I just—hid.”

When Kageyama looked back over at Hinata, his eyes held something that Hinata hadn’t seen often. It was the look he gave when they woke up together in the mornings, or when Hinata made Kageyama a coffee without him asking for it, it was soft and pure and… gentle.

It was a look that screamed the absolute opposite of what Hinata had thought was going to happen. 

It was a look that screamed forgiveness.

“I’ve decided.” Kageyama said, “I…If—If I’m going to heal properly, or if—I’m if I’m ever going to play again. I want it to be because, well—because you helped me.”

Hinata choked, “Wha—”

Kageyama saw the panic, he saw the signs of Hinata’s brain shutting down, so he reiterated “I want to follow your plan Hinata.” Hinata choked out a pathetic sob, his hands instantly reached to muffle his mouth, “H—Hinata!” Kageyama called in concern, leaning over and gently pulling Hinata’s hands away from his mouth. 

“I—I promise! I promise I’ll learn from my mistakes I promise!” Hinata was hysterical, and although it was mildly terrifying Kageyma couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated up at the enthusiasm.

Kageyama couldn’t resist. He lunged forward, grabbing Hinata by the shoulders and shoving him down onto the bed in another crushing hug. Nuzzling his head in the smaller man’s neck affectionately, “I know this is probably a lot, we can continue this talk later ok?” Kageyama could feel him nodding, his wet cheeks brushing against the side of his face. 

It was clear that Hinata simply wasn’t in the right mindset for a deep conversation right now, and that was ok, because Kageyama wasn’t going anywhere. In his mind, they had all the time in the world. There was no animosity on either side, there was no reason why they couldn’t wait a little longer.

However, there was one thing he couldn’t wait for.

“Hinata,” Kageyama’s voice was smooth as he sat up, naturally straddling the smaller man with his longer legs. Hinata’s eyes were red, as were his cheeks and his ears and his neck. The man was a babbling mess, he looked a mess. But at the same time, Kageyama had never felt so…important before. Kageyama cupped the man’s cheeks, the smooth action of his thumbs swiping away as many tears that fell as he could, “Why are you crying?”

“I—just, it you,” Hinata’s ribcage rattled as he exhaled, then inhaled, trying to calm himself down. Kageyama took the opportunity to scoot the shorter man toward the headboard. Giving him something else to think about seemed to be helping him calm down. Kageyama sat, leaned against the headboard, with his feet planted and keens up. Hinata was quick to catch on once the man tapped his thigh. Hinata crawled over, settling himself in his lap with his arms around his neck and his head resting comfortably in the crook of Kageyama’s neck. After a few more minutes of deep breathing, Hinata spoke “I thought you hated me. You should hate me, Kageyama I was horrible—”

Kageyama’s large hands squeezed Hinata’s waist, prompting his head up, “Shoyou” He sang with a beautifully content smile on his lips, it that made Hinata melt, “I don’t hate you at all. I missed you, a lot.” 

“But—”

“No buts, let me finish what I want to say first ok?” Hinata sighed, finally relaxing enough to give a lopsided smile, “Which one is your favorite poster—”

“Kageyaaaamaaaa!” Hinata whined with embarrassment

“Is it this one?” He asked, a stupidly playful smirk on his face as he lifted up one of his more recent prints that were littered on the other side of the bed. It was a solo candid shot, taken on the court when he was about to serve. “What about this one?” He pulled another, one at a practice match when he was spiking for once, “Or—”

Hinata pulled the current poster out of Kageyama’s grip, placed it in the pile with the others and hastily stretched in Kageyama’s lap to shove them off the bed and onto the floor. 

He was smiling now, he felt playful and closer to normal than he’d felt in weeks, “I like this one best,” He smiled, untangling his hands from behind Kageyama’s neck and squishing his cheeks between his small hands.

Kageyama smiled in a way that made Hinata think he’d never seen Kageyama smile before. It was wide, so wide that it stretched his cheeks up to his eyes and made him look squishy. His eyes were gleaming, he was shining. 

He was the most beautiful person Hinata had ever seen in his life. 

The silence that ensued was comfortable and full of small touches. If Kageyama wasn’t lightly stroking up the carrot tops sides, then he was tracing the expanses of his thighs that were on either side of him. Or it was Hinata’s dull nails scratching affectionately into Kageyama’s scalp, or his thumbs circling the sides of Kageyama’s blushing face. 

Nothing was being said between them, and yet somehow Hinata’s stomach dropped with butterflies the instant Kageyama’s mouth opened as if he knew what he was going to say.

"Do you…” Kageyama looked up at Hinata with the biggest puppy dog expression, he looked adorable, and yet there were hints of uncertainty flickering, “Do really have a crush on me?” Hinata’s eyes practically bulged out of his head, his hands stopped as his heart absolutely hammered in his chest. A crush? A crush? Hinata was far beyond the crushing phase--“Is that a no?” Hinata’s brain finally connected to his mouth, “Awh…that’s a shame.”

“A shame?” Hinata’s voice squeaked.

“Yeah, I mean…I had my whole confession planned and everything—”

At that, Hinata shot up so quickly he nearly tumbled over and straight off the side of the bed, he would have too if Kageyama’s hands weren’t so freakishly large and stopped him, “Your what!?” 

There wasn’t a single part of Hinata’s brain that thought Kageyama liked him. Yes, he was very aware Kageyama was physically attracted to him, but that’s all he thought it was. To think Kageyama actually liked him, for his personality was…outlandish. He was Kageyama Tobio for Christ’s sake, and Hinata was just, he was just Hinata. He wasn’t special.

“I know right! Now I’m gonna have to wait until someone else—”

Although, that didn’t stop Hinata from panic blabbing his feelings.

“No! no no Kageyama I do! I do like you!” Hinata practically screeched, his hands buried tightly to the front of Kageyama’s hoodie in pathetic attempts to keep him mentally anchored. Kageyama’s smile was devilish, cheeky and Hinata knew he’d been baited. He’d been baited into a panic confession, “Oh you little shit—”

“Hey! Hold off on the name calling carrot top let me ask first.”

“What the hell could you possibly--”

“Hinata Shouyou! will you be my boyfriend?” Hinata stopped dead, stopped breathing, blinking, he just sat in Kageyama’s lap—eyes wide and mouth agape like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing…because he couldn’t. The man that he’d had a crush on for more than half of his life, the man who he idolized, his fucking gay awakening was-- “Or will you let me be your boyfriend?” Kageyama continued as his nerves grew more and more with every added second of silence.

“Are you serious?” Hinata’s voice was alarmingly steady.

It was Kageyama’s turn to be nervous now, “Well, yeah. If you want to be—no pressure I’m not gonna force you, obviously, I just thought—”

“Tobio” the man in question gasped at the sudden feeling of Hinata wiggling in his lap to get closer, his chest thump, his stomach coiled, “You don’t have to—just because I said that in the voicemail—”

Kageyama shook his head quickly, squeezing his hands around Hinata’s waist in comfort, “No, stop listen to me Hinata. I like you; I did before everything happened I just—I didn’t realize it properly then. I’ve wanted to ask you…for a while.”

Hinata’s heart must’ve decided that it wanted to pursue a career in gymnastics because it was performing backflip after backflip after backflip.

Kageyama had forgiven him, Kageyama had opened up to him and told him that he wanted to try out his program, and Kageyama liked Hinata. Like, he liked Hinata, wanted to date Hinata. It was just…it was a lot of information to process; it was a lot to take in.

Despite Hinata’s personal insecurities, he trusted Kageyama. If Kageyama had said he liked him, even if Hinata personally couldn’t see how, he trusted that Kageyama wouldn’t lie about something like that. 

If Kageyama said he liked him, then Hinata was just going to have to start loving himself until he found out why.

“Yes! Yes! you idiot of course I will!” 

Seconds after Hinata had finished uttering those words, Kageyama’s lips were chasing his. The pair crashed together like a chemical explosion, the heat of Kageyama’s mouth was searing with so much passion it made Hinata’s blood boil. Hinata felt like he was burning up, like Kageyama was a bonfire and he was a piece of dry wood being thrown into it, being absolutely consumed by Kageyama’s need to swallow him whole. Hinata sobbed into him in a frenzy, kissing Kageyama back with every ounce of emotion he hadn’t yet exhausted. Leaning forward on his knees, rising above Kageyama and forcing the man's head back to slip his tongue between his lips. The moan that left Kageyama’s mouth was deep and filthy, and that’s when it hit Hinata. 

During the fleeting moments where their lips weren’t connected, Hinata would gasp, “Tobio, Tobio,” as if he was chanting some kind of incantation. As if he could somehow make this feel more real.

Kageyama was his.

He was Kageyama’s. 

And although it wasn’t the sexiest, most romantic thing in the world—Hinata smiled, he laughed into Kageyama’s mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Kageyama asked, his voice was throaty, but his lips pulled into a tight smile as well. It wasn’t long until the two were just smiling onto each other’s mouths, holding each other tightly and giggling like teenagers who’d snuck out for the first time.

The initial raw desire of their kiss was replaced by something much sweeter, something much more meaningful.

“I’m just happy.” Hinata sighed, feeling the weight of weeks of stress and mental torment begin to slowly melt away. Kageyama tried to smile back, but Hinata noticed the hesitation being his eyes, “What's wrong?” he asked.

Kageyama’s mouth opened, then closed then opened again “It’s just…I don’t—just because we’re together now and we’ve kinda talked things through…it doesn’t mean—” Kageyama gulped, and Hinata was patient, his thumbs continuing gentle affectionate strokes over the man's cheeks in an effort to keep him from panicking. It seemed to work, “I’m not suddenly like…cured, ya know? This is gonna be really hard, Hinata. Not just on me but probably on you too.” 

Hinata’s heart clenched in his chest, Kageyama was right of course; but Hinata had already made up his mind, “I know that Bakayama, I’m ready for it. I have been for a while.” Hinata’s smile was bright, blindingly so. So bright that Kageyama suddenly believed in reincarnation, because the carrot top must’ve been the reincarnation of the sun or something, “We’re partners! We can do it, and we’ll do it together ok?” Hinata, for the first time since he’d settled in Kageyama’s lap, let his hands fall from the setter’s face, and instead raised a pinky, “Partners?” 

Kageyama stared at the pinky, his heart was hammering in his chest, and it felt like his lungs had filled with water. He felt the need to choke and cry because for the first time in a long time he felt like himself. He felt genuinely, and authentically happy. And although he had to accept this feeling might not last very long, and that by agreeing to Hinata’s program he was going to put himself through hell, the concept of hell didn’t seem so scary. Not if he had Hinata by his side.

He extended his pinky, which was comically larger than Hinata’s, and wrapped them together in a heartfelt promise.

“Partners.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo!   
> god it's been a long time since I've written this story I'm so sorry!   
> I took a break over Christmas and now my friend is staying with me until the 9th so I haven't had much time to write and on top of that I have exams soon and my big year 3 project due for uni! :(   
> updates will be sparse and Im sorry for it. I know this chapter isn't great but I just wanted to get something out to tell u what was going on sksks I'll defo be editing this chapter at some point jdfnrjedj
> 
> regular and well written updates should be starting again in February but ill try my best to get some up in between! 
> 
> if you're bored though and like BNHA I've started a slow burn dabi/hawks fic if that'll float ur boat. I've got some chapters backed up for it so it should be updated semi regularly skksksks 
> 
> I MISS YALL!!!! I HOPE YOU'RE GOOD!!!

The weeks that followed Kageyama and Hinata’s reunion were _interesting,_ to say the least. For the first few days they both walked on eggshells around each other, Hinata found himself skipping over sports channels and diverting conversations as far away from his course and assignments as he could. And Kageyama did the same, it felt like he had to ask _but what do you mean by that_? Or _how would you feel if_? At the end of every sentence. They were reluctant in everything they did together, they were shy. They somehow managed to revert to drowning in the awkward tensions of when they first met.

Yet, they had one mutual thing they _both_ refused to dodge.

Well…sort of.

“Ok, you’re gonna walk in there,” Hinata said, his chest puffed up and tone likening some kind of inspirational speaker at a Ted-Talk event. His, much thicker than Kageyama remembered, arms resting on his hips.

Kageyama nodded, jogging on the spot lightly with eyes sharp and focused “Yeah” he breathed in response.

“You’re gonna sit in that ugly fucking chair”

“Yes!”

“And you’re gonna let Dr. Tsukishima examine your knee!” Hinata ended with enthusiasm, arm slapping on the taller man’s back in encouragement. To the other patients in the waiting area, the two must’ve looked _insane_.

“Right!” Kageyama’s tone was determined, but he took maybe four long strides toward the Dr’s door before his pace slowed and his back slumped, he whipped back around, anxiety wrinkled in his brow, “No I can’t.”

“What!?” Hinata screeched, “Why _not_!?”

“He’s scary” Hinata had never seen Kageyama act so…so childlike before. Yes, he’d come to learn the guy was an actual _idiot_ , but he always pretended not to be one.

Right now, though, Kageyama wouldn’t even pretend not to be mildly terrified of the family doctor.

At first, his nervousness was completely justified, it’s never nice to just suddenly show up to appointments you’d been skipping for _years_. But the more he thought about it, the further his mind wandered from seeing Dr. Tsukishima as _his_ doctor, and more Hinata’s _mother’s_ doctor. And before Kageyama knew it, he’d managed to think himself into believing he was about to meet Hinata’s family, which was _much_ more terrifying than any physical exam could ever be.

Did he mention this completely irrational thought process to Hinata? No of course not. He didn’t need him knowing _just_ how much of an idiot he truly was. So he played _the doctor's scary_ card like a _child_.

“Stop being a baby, Tobio” Hinata’s whine vibrated his entire throat. They were so close to a new step, to see the _exact_ condition of Kageyama’s knee. The door to knowledge was literally three steps away! And Kageyama just wouldn’t budge. Hinata _knew_ they were on the same page now, at least when it came to _this_. They’d agreed on getting the knee checked, Kageyama had even shown some levels of excitement about finally putting some of his needless overthinking to rest. But now he was frozen scared.

He huffed, arms crossing stubbornly as he stared down his boyfriend, “Fine, I’ll come with you.”

Blue eyes widened with relief, “Really?”

“Yep,” Hinata paused, a teasing smirk stretching his lips. He knew exactly how to push Kageyama’s buttons, and oh boy he was prepared to _punch_ them if it meant getting him into that office. Hinata had said he wasn’t going to hold his hand through all of this, Kageyama needed to take some steps on his own to reclaim his sense of…freedom. The sense that he was being proactive and _helping himself_. That…Hinata wasn’t the reason he was getting help, Kageyama was getting help because _he_ wanted to get better. Hinata had to be sneaky, “I’ve been wanting an excuse to see Tsukishima again, _he’s pretty hot_.” Hinata skipped along to the door without a care in the world, eyeing as his boyfriend's face slowly morphed into an unadulterated jealous rage.

It suited his scary features beautifully.

Before Hinata could even knock on the door, Kageyama had picked up by the waist and practically thrown him back into the waiting room with hulk-like strength, “Like _hell_ you are!” was all Kageyama growled before he vanished into the doctor’s office.

Hinata let himself fall onto the cold floor of the doctor’s surgery, lungs heaving with pure satisfying joy.

_He’d got him good._

* * *

_Hot_? _Hot_! His doctor wasn’t _hot_! Was that really Hinata’s type? Had he really drifted that far away from---

“Ah, Mr. Kageyama it’s good to finally see you.” The taller man’s voice was overflowing with passive-aggressive sarcasm, so much so that it made Kageyama’s neck hair stand on end.

His idiotic brain caught up with his actions then. His eyes scanning the clean interior of the room as if he’d just woken up from a coma and had no idea where he was. Oh god, he’d been _tricked_. Hinata the _sneaky little shit._

“Your friend was in quite the hurry to book this appointment, I’m glad _somebody_ is taking responsibility for your health because it certainly isn’t _you_.” He grumbled, his hands working through Kageyama’s medical history on the computer with a judging scowl on his face.

The words flew out of his mouth before he’d finished the thought, “He’s my _boyfriend_.” Kageyama was still stood by the door, legs spread, and his fists tense by his side. Every single detail of his stance conveyed one overwhelming emotion, _protection_.

Dr. Tsukishima side-eyed the unhinged man, brow raised high as he judged Kageyama to absolute filth, “Well, good for you.” He sighed, finally standing from his chair and gesturing to the long examination table tucked to the side, “Now sit down and let’s get this over with.”

Kageyama managed to keep the sigh from falling out of his mouth, but he made no attempts to hide his physical discomfort. He sat on the bed, rolled up his trouser leg until it was practically stopping the blood flow in his thigh, and stared down at it as if it was his first time ever seeing a knee in his life.

Tsukishima’s hands were cold, almost as cold as his not so subtle digs at Kageyama’s absence, which only made the whole ordeal that bit more uncomfortable.

“What's the shrimpies plan?” Tsukishima asked as he let Kageyama’s knee drop roughly against the back of the bed.

Kageyama wined automatically, although his knee didn’t actually…hurt, “M’ not sure yet,” He mumbled, not wanting to drag his stay out any longer with an awkward conversation, “t’all depends on what you think.”

Tsukishima stood to his full height once more, towering over the younger with a domineering presence that was equal parts bark as it was bite, “What I think?” he hummed, “Your knee seems fine.”

“What? Really?” Kageyama gaped.

“Yep. Nothing feels wrong, there’s no tension, its just a regular knee. Whatever pain you’ve been feeling, or limp you have is definitely more psychological than physical.” He delivered the news coldly, with a completely neutral expression that did nothing to ease Kageyama’s swelling anxiety.

Psychologically? As in like, phantom pain? But…that—Kageyama’s blood thumped in his ears at the concept, medically he was fine. If he wanted to get on court right now he could and he wouldn’t break, but…he felt like if he even took a tumble up the stairs his knee would shatter under him.

“Although, just because I’m giving you the ok doesn’t mean you should go full throttle. The muscles around the knee, along with your overall muscle condition, are still weak. Much weaker than they’ve probably been in years. You’re nowhere near the regular bodily standard of fit, let alone volleyball fit.” _Why did he feel like he was being scolded_ , “Go slowly, Kageyama. I mean it.”

Kageyama wasted no time in racing out of the office once he was given permission to do so.

He thought that after a positive diagnosis he’d feel better, he thought he’d have one of those great _a weight has bee lifted from my shoulders_ moments. He wasn’t anticipating his heart feeling heavier, his mind clouding over like a storm was beginning to loom over him and zap him with a strong lightning rod of reality.

How long had he been physically fine? How much time had he wasted running away? When he could’ve been training. How long had he _made himself_ suffer?

And yet, all of those worries seem to dwindle a little as he spotted the bouncing orange locks radiating pure joy from the waiting room.

“Well?” Hinata was glowing with pure positive energy as if he was the actual sun providing Kageyama with the vitamins he desperately needed to function.

“I have to take it slow, but he said the knee feels fine.” He said, subconsciously lifting his leg up and bending the knee back and forth.

Hinata didn’t verbally react, well If he did Kageyama didn’t hear him, he grappled Kageyama in a crushing hug, his arms much thicker and warmer than they were before but his head still tucked comfortably on Kageyama’s some-what solid chest.

“Proud of you” Hinata’s voice muffled.

Kageyama’s mouth spread wide, large hand settling on the man's head and ruffling his hair boisterously, “I literally did nothing,” He huffed, the air surging back into his lungs when the shorter man let go.

Hinata’s eyes were large, as were his pout, “That’s not true! You rested well and now you’re ready for action. It’s hard work doing nothing all day—”

“ _Oiy!_ ”

The pair left the doctor’s office in search of food as if they were two starved cavemen on their daily hunt, and they stopped at the very first place they saw which sold edible goods. Both were exhausted for different reasons, Hinata had been way too enthusiastic to try and hype Kageyama up, and Kageyama’s brain had all but stopped functioning due to a mixture of his diagnosis and the effects of staying up all night worrying over nothing. They bustled into the local convenience store, argued childishly over if beef noodles were better than seafood ones, but paid for their little haul quickly.

“This means you can come to the gym with Iwaizumi and me now.” Hinata proclaimed, the straw to his apple juice carton held firmly between his teeth.

“Hah?” Blue eyes narrowed skeptically, “What part of _take it easy_ does your pea-brain not understand?”

To his surprise, Hinata laughed “Obviously not doing the same workout we do, _stupid_.” The walk to the train station was peaceful, there was barely anyone on the streets which made Hinata’s already loud voice boom against the concrete walls of the underground and bounce around the platforms as if he was screaming every syllable, “We can spot you.”

Kageyama hopped onto the almost empty train car with a huff, “I don’t need spotting, I was a professional athlete ya know.”

“Yeah, _was_ being the keyword.”

Hinata wasn’t sure what had triggered them to become so comfortable talking about Kageyama’s sporty past, but he wasn’t about to complain. The more they talked about it, the easier it was for Kageyama. Hinata could tell. It was the way his shoulders didn’t slump as badly as before, and the way his eyes shone with something so deeply _Kageyama_ that it made Hinata’s heart clench in his chest. He had front row seats to watch the life steadily seep back into his boyfriend, but not only his boyfriend, his best friend, gay awakening, and sporting _idol_. Sometimes when they snuggled down into bed Hinata could hardly believe it, his head rested on Kageyama Tobio’s chest, his heartbeat racing in his ears while his hand wandered up and down lightly toned sides. He couldn't help but feeling like...like he didn't deserve this; but even though it was selfish, Hinata didn't care whether he deserved it or not. He had him, and he wasn't letting him go without a fight.

“What’re you smiling about?” Kageyama’s deep voice grumbled above him, his tall frame trapping the orange into the window seat condemned to watch the city change before his eyes.

Hinata couldn’t help but smile _more_ , eyes meeting his boyfriend's shiny curious ones. He hadn’t noticed it before but Kageyama’s eyes weren’t simply blue, they looked like tie-dye, light, and dark blues swirled around in both a cold and warm embrace depending on the lighting. Whenever he was happy, they were this light baby blue--like a clear ocean in a tropical climate; but there were times when his eyes were dark, stormy and so full of _lust_ as he took Hinata apart piece by piece that they looked almost _black_. Hinata lo--

The word _love_ jumped to the forefront of Hinata’s mind, and that _terrified_ him. He couldn’t love Kageyama, it wasn’t the right time to love him—they had so much going on that his feelings would only complicate their end goal. And yet, the word was in his throat ready to pounce scratching and clawing its way onto his tongue.

Hinata _swallowed_ it.

“Nothing” He smiled sweetly, leaning forward into Kageyama’s warmth to hide from the winter chill inside the train car, “Just thinkin.”

“That’s dangerous.” He teased.

Hinata swatted him playfully, but in the back of his mind, he agreed. Because what he was thinking felt _very_ dangerous.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! thank you guys for being so patient with this story while my uni work kicked my ass.   
> I've gotten my timetable for my last semester of classes now so I can write pretty regularly again :)  
> Also ngl I've been putting off writing this story simply because its coming to an end and |I don't want it to :'(   
> HOWEVER  
> if you like my writing (which honestly seems insane to me sorry ksks) check my page out cuz I write a LOT and have a couple other projects I'm working on too :)   
> THANK YOU LOVE YALL ALWAYS!!!

Traumatized was a horrible word. It reflected pain and paranoia to a haunting degree. It represented disturbing experiences, like losing a loved one, or physical and emotional abuse. It was the process of watching the life from someone’s eyes being replaced by a dull nothingness.

Kageyama had never once thought of himself as being traumatized because in comparison to those other events, busting a knee was _nothing_. And yet, as he stood at the edge of the universities volleyball court, unable to move without thinking his knee would suddenly shatter and he’d collapse, feeling like the loose sports gear he adorned was constricting and suffocating him like a python, unable to take a single full breath which didn’t shake and stab its way through his lungs.

Traumatized was the only word Kageyama thought of.

Oikawa stood next to him, strength and confidence oozing out of him as he watched the girls training session draw to a close. He remembered when everyone used to call Kageyama the genius setter when everyone would fawn over him for being some kind of prodigy. But they were all wrong in his mind, that title had always belonged to Oikawa. Even now, after a hectic night of studying god knows what till god knows when he was alert and ready to go. He was more of a volleyball prodigy, more of a genius than Kageyama could ever hope to be.

“Not getting cold feet are we?” His smile was positively wicked with taunting, and yet it comforted Kageyama’s thumbing heart to no end.

Oikawa had always drawn out his competitive spirit, “Of course not,” The crack in his voice betrayed him, “I never lost to you before, won’t start loosin’ now.” He huffed, a façade of course.

Oikawa smiled, for real this time, with fondness tugging at his eyes “You’re really going to like Sho’s plan.”

It was dramatic, just as everything that left his mouth, but for some unknown reason it soothed Kageyama’s ragged breaths. Outwardly, he hoped he looked fine. If they could see his insides he bet they’d probably send him to some kind of mental institution and keep him locked up, because he felt insane.

He felt like he was panicking too much and somehow not as much as he should be. He felt like throwing up, both from nerves and excitement. He wanted to run and scream and jump, but he couldn’t even take a single step without the fear of failure suffocating him.

He wanted it all to stop, to run back to the comfort of his cushy writing job…but at the same time, he wanted to run toward Volleyball with everything he had.

It was like he was stuck to the ocean floor with a concrete slap stuck to his ankles, something was keeping him down but the water around him, the body’s natural buoyancy was tugging him upward.

Hinata hadn’t told him specifically what his plan was. They’d spent most of their time doing stretches, very light weights in the gym, and some cardio; but Hinata never pushed him. There were times when even Kageyama had doubts when he wanted to ask if he could do _more_. And as the little carrot top bounded through the opposite entrance of the gym, Kageyama finally knew why.

“Wh—” Breathless would be an understatement, “What the _hell_ are you wearing?”

Hinata looked at his legs dumbly, even gave a slight swing of his hips as if to accentuate himself even more, “What’s wrong with them? You don’t like the colour?”

Any present thoughts of fear or trauma or doubt were quickly replaced with the flush of heat consuming his face. It was erratic, like a switch in his head had been turned on and he no longer considered the option of running away.

“They’re _leggings_!”

Not just leggings, oh no. That would be too kind to his over-enthusiastic imagination. _Light grey leggings_ , probably a size or two too small by the way they stretched over the thick curves of his thighs and ass. Kageyama’s hands suddenly felt very empty as he watched Hinata move around to the net, ass jiggling up and down and left and right with every step.

He looked _delicious_.

A distraction. Hinata was pulling Kageyama away from the overthinking expanses of his mind and giving him something else to focus on.

It was a cheap trick, so simple that it was laughable how well it worked.

“I’m going to kill you” Was all Kageyama could say as he watched Hinata bounce around, an entire court length away.

Hinata’s amused huff echoed through the gym, somehow making it past the squeak of sneakers as the girl's team bustled out of the exit, “You’d have to catch me first.”

It was a challenge, dancing across the blush of his cheeks, and with a quick jump forward as if the court was somehow made of lava and he had to run across it as quickly as he could or _die_ , he accepted.

The orange squeaked in surprise, clearly expecting that Kageyama would take more convincing to come on the court; but what the hell did he expect, he was wearing fucking _leggings_ that looked as if they’d been painting on. Kageyama would be insane to not want to grab him and ravish him in the changing rooms.

Oikawa’s sing-song tone bought him back to reality, “Have fun kiddies!”

Kageyama didn’t stop the groan slipping from his lips, he especially didn’t stop his eyes from raking every single inch of Hinata’s body when he stood in front of him.

Hinata smiled, “Well, now you're here grab a ball and let's get crackin.”

Kageyama figured Hinata would have something sneaky up his sleeve but this was just…

“Wait,” Kageyama said, voice softer in realization, “Why _are_ you wearing that? You said that you…didn’t want to play Volleyball.”

Kageyama remembered that painful conversation, not just for the arguing and yelling that happened afterward. But for how vulnerable Hinata had sounded when he’d talked about why he didn’t play, why he’d never even tried. Kageyama couldn’t understand that. He couldn’t understand the logic behind it or the sentiment if there was any. But the emotion in Hinata's eyes was true, and that was something Kageyama wouldn’t dispute.

“Well…” Hinata looked down shyly at the volleyball he’d swiped from the cart. His hands were gingerly clinging onto the material, it truly was a foreign object in his hands, “I thought it would’ve been unfair if I made you face your fears without facing mine.” Kageyama’s stomach fluttered teasing his already racing heart to pick up speed, “and we have the same fear anyway so, it’s convenient!”

Hinata tried to downplay the sincerity behind his actions, but it was a little too late for that. When he looked up to Kageyama, the man was staring down at him as if he’d never seen another person before. As if Hinata was the only person in the entire world.

Luckily, Oikawa broke the thick tension like a sledgehammer through a sheet of ice, “Alright amateurs! Time to warm up.” 

Kageyama used to hate the warm-up laps, but now as he ran next to his boyfriend effortlessly he didn’t quite want the lap to end. When the lap ended, there were stretches and after stretches, they were dragging over the cart of balls and preparing to play. Hinata, of course, was incredibly far behind Kageyama’s muscle memory skill set and Oikawa’s finely tuned genius setting ability.

But it was fun to watch the tangerine chase after the ball as it ricocheted off his arms at an awkward angle.

“Keep your arms straighter Shoyou, like this.” Oikawa demonstrated, “and bend your knees. You have to meet the ball with your whole body.” Hinata watched Oikawa squat down a little, his body perfectly balanced, “Toss me a ball, I’ll show ya.” Hinata did his best attempt at a set, it was high and wobbled in the air but Oikawa hit it perfectly, sending it back up the exact way it came…hurling toward Hinata, “Receive it!” Oikawa shouted.

Hinata shuffled forward awkwardly, his mouth agape as he tried to channel his nervous energy into calm breathing. He got under the rapidly falling ball, legs shoulder-width apart, and arms as straight as he could keep them without looking down to check. The ball hit his arms with a sharp, painful sting and bounced off wildly once again.

The two more experienced players sighed, and to Hinata’s surprise it was Kageyama who chewed him out—“You didn’t move to the ball, that’s why it keeps deflecting. Don’t look so miserable about it.”

“The ball was falling to me!—”

“You’re supposed to meet it in the middle—”

“But my arms hurt if I do that.” Hinata grumbled eyes mesmerized as red blotches slowly turned to light yellow patches under his gaze.

“It’s supposed to. The more you do it _right_ the easier it is.” This side of Kageyama probably should have shocked Hinata a little. It’d been so long since the two had shared any type of witty, half-hearted bickering after all. And this wasn’t half-hearted bickering Kageyama. This was the passionate volleyball player who’d clawed his high school team out of the dumbs and set them into nationals.

Hinata wasn’t afraid of the harsh words or competitive fire in his boyfriend's eyes. Oh no, if anything it riled him up. Excited him. He could see small hints of _that_ Kageyama coming back, the one that Hinata had watch play throughout Middle and Highschool as if his life depended on it as if it was what he was made to do.

And it was clear as day now. While Hinata watched Kageyama bounce the ball on his forearms with muscle memory and control, the ball was completely familiar to him to a point where if Hinata knew nothing of human biology he’d assume the ball was one of Kageyama’s appendages. It was clear that Kageyama had played as though he was made to do it, because he was. And after laying with the man and comforting him through breakdown after breakdown while heartbroken sobs wrecked his throat and shook his ribs, Kageyama’s life _did_ depend on volleyball.

Even after a simple hour of playing with the ball, Kageyama was gleaming. His hair was swaying over his eyes which were always glued to the ball, his mouth wasn’t settled in its usual downward slope but rather perked up. He was living, right at that moment Kageyama was _alive_ …and he didn’t want to let go of the ball. He didn’t want to leave the court. He didn’t want to die.

"Tobio!" Hinata called out, "Teach me how to spike." 

Kageyama stood his full height after he'd received yet another one of Oikawa's sets. Eyes sharp and deadly as he scrutinized every single muscle on Hinata's body, "You can't even receive yet, no way am I teaching you to spike."

"But receives are boring!" Hinata whined, straining his eyes to widen and beg like a puppy. 

Kageyama was unwavering though, "They're fundamental." 

"Tobioooooo--"

"Stop whining and practice." 

Hinata whined _louder_ , "But--"

"If you can receive five in a row then I'll think about it." Kageyama may have acted as though he was unaffected by Hinata's pleas, but that was only because Oikawa was here watching them. Kageyama was all soft and mushy on the inside, giddy with excitement at the fact his boyfriend was actually eager to learn. 

Although, he wasn't lying when he said receives are fundamental. He wasn't gonna let Hinata slack just because Kageyama was a complete and utter simp for him in every other respect. 

Well, he said that...but after Hinata nailed one good receive they were at the wall and Kageyama was talking him through how to spike. 

"You have to lift your arm up like this ok," Kageyama demonstrated, but Hinata was a bit too focused on the fact his boyfriend could hold an entire Volleyball in one hand to listen properly, "And you use your other arm to guide it, you have to keep your hand flat like a spear. got it?" 

"Got it!" 

Hinata didn't have it, not even close. Kageyama tossed the ball up and Hinata jumped up to meet it far too early. He'd landed by the time the ball stuffed itself in the crevis between the wall and the floor and hurled straight for Hinata's face. 

"Waaa--fuu---lll" Hinata yelled weakly as the ball collided with his nose, the unexpected power of the ball caught Hinata's unstable legs completely by surprise and sent him flying backward like he was a character in an anime.

"Are you ok?" Kageyama asked hurriedly while Oikawa's laugh bounced off the walls, "Wait-- did you say _Waffle_?" 

Hinata was sat up in a flash, clutching his bloody nose with drawn-in brows. 

Kageyama wasn't sure why that face made him remember Hinata's words that night. 

_"What if I played it and I wasn’t good at it? Or what if I played it and I hated it? I’d have ruined something I really enjoyed,”_

"Shoyou, it..." Kageyama wasn't sure if there were right or wrong words to him, he'd never been the type to even try and comfort someone before, "It's ok that you're not an immediate Volleyball god ya know." Hinata's eyebrows furrowed deeper, "I mean you, just. Failing is part of the fun." 

"That sounds like bullshit." Hinata squeaked through his hand. 

"No, really it is," Kageyama insisted. In truth, Kageyama had started to play so young that by the time he was conscious of his actions Volleyball was second nature to him. But that didn't mean he hadn't struggled before, "Do you remember that super quick attack I used to do?" In high school." 

Hinata nodded, "Yeah, of course, everyone who watches volleyball knows about that attack." 

"Well...it actually took Tanaka and me months before we managed to pull it off." 

Hinata's eyes blew wide, "Really?"

Kageyama nodded, "We tried it every day after practice for hours but could never get it right. And then when we finally did it was like..."

"Like _fwoosh_ " 

Kageyama couldn't hold back the laugh in his throat, "Yeah...it was like _fwoosh_. And it wouldn't have felt that good if we didn't struggle for so long. Do you understand what I'm saying." 

Hinata stared up at Kageyama with an unreadable expression for quite some time. 

But then he huffed out a laugh, "Tobio." 

"Yeah?" 

Hinata's voice didn't waver as he said it. In fact, he said it with such determination and clarity that it almost made everything else he'd ever said sound like a half-hearted lie.

"One day I'll spike your sets for you, and we'll be even quicker." 

At that moment a bomb could have gone off, the world beneath them could have completely crumbled away and Kageyama still wouldn't have looked away from Hinata. Sat on the floor with his knees curled to his chest, clutching a bloody nose that was leaving stains on his white sports t-shirt, completely unaware that what he'd said made his boyfriend's love for life kickstart. 

Made his love for Hinata kickstart. 

"I look forward to it." 


End file.
